A Man Among Dogs
by blueland10
Summary: AU: Dean Winchester was only four years old when he was taken from his family. His Daddy told him to stay inside but, he really wanted to pet the doggy outside.
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: Hey! So this is my first AU story, just a little plot bunny that's been bouncing around in my head. I'm not sure where I'm going with this story but I do know that this is a skinwalker!dean fic and there will be brief mentions of child abuse. The upcoming chapters will be much longer than this one. I'm just warming up to it. I hope you stick around for a spell and as always enjoy :)**

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Dean Winchester was only four years old when he was taken from his family, just a few months shy of his mother's horrific death. His daddy told him not to go outside. He told him to look after Sammy, make sure Sammy was safe. Daddy said he wasn't going to be gone long; he'd only be gone for a few minutes. He told Dean to say indoors but, Sammy was sleeping and there was a doggy sitting out in the parking lot.

It was a pretty doggy with shaggy black hair and playful eyes. Dean had always wanted a doggy but he got a baby brother instead. Sammy was a great brother but he was too young to do anything with yet. If he had a doggy he could play all kinds of games. Dean jumped down from the chair he was perched on and pulled opened the motel room door. He knew his Daddy told him not to go outside but, he really, really wanted to pet the doggy.

Little Dean walked out into mid afternoon light clapping his hands with joy as the doggy started yipping with happiness. But as he reached the Doggy something weird happened, the doggy lost its fur and transformed into a man. A big, black, scary van pulled up behind the dog man, the side door rolling open. Dean tried to run away, screaming for his Daddy but the dog man was too quick. He grabbed Dean from behind and tossed him into the van.

That was the last time anyone saw little Dean Winchester again.


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: thank you so much for the favorites and follows! Just a warning, there are mentions of child abuse in the chapter! Also, this is not beta'd so all mistakes are my own. Enjoy :)**

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**Five Years Later**

Bobby Singer sat in his beat up Chevelle, a shotgun resting innocently across his lap. He brought a pair of binoculars up to his eyes and took one last look at his target. From the road the dilapidated old house looked like yet another condemned shack that littered the back roads of South Dakota but, to the well inclined it was anything but. It was a supernatural trading post; a place where monsters and humans alike could buy creatures to use for their own twisted purposes. Bobby had spent the better half of two years trying to track down the trading ring only to find, much to his surprise and frustration that it was under his nose the whole time.

It was nearing sundown, the sky a pretty tinge of pink and orange. Three days had passed since the last auction. That meant there wouldn't be many creatures on the premises, Bobby figured five or six monsters tops, but the big guns, the human show runners, would still be hanging around to make sure the 'merchandise' was ready for its new owners to pick up. It wasn't ideal, but seeing as Bobby was going to have to take this hunt on by his little lonesome, it would have to do. So he waited until the auctioneers took off for god knows what before he made his move. Once he took care of the fuglies on the property he'd call the local law enforcement and get those human bastards arrested. It wouldn't stop the trading ring for good but it'd put a nice kink in it and for now, that'll have to do.

Checking the rounds in his gun, he pushed his aging body up and out of the car. He found it strange that an operation like this didn't have any security but then again, they could always sic the 'merchandise' on intruders. Bobby crept slowly and carefully to a ramshackle barn where he suspected the monsters were held. As he drew closer the sounds of desperation filled the air. The stifled moans of pain and anger only added to Bobby's determination. He couldn't say that he was torn up inside at the monsters suffering but it gave him a new spin on things. He was putting these damn things out of their misery.

He pulled the rough barn door open, filling the filth ridden space with the suns last rays of light. There were five cages that he could see. Inside each sat three monsters bound by heavy iron chains burning into their skins. Bobby didn't give them a chance to plead for help. He raised his gun and started emptying the rounds. By the time he reached the third cage the monsters were screaming. Blood and gore splattered the walls as Bobby worked swiftly. Most of the creatures seemed to be skinwalkers and shifters, only a few werewolves scattered among the population, his silver buck shots taking care of business like a charm. Five minutes later the only sounds that could be heard were Bobby's own ragged breathing.

Pulling down on his trucker hat, Bobby turned to leave until a small voice cut through the silence.

"H-help-p me, p-p-please." The voice cried out. Bobby's heart froze in his chest. God, it sounded just like a child. With measured steps he walked further into the barn, closer to the source of the voice.

"Who's there?" he ordered. He had to be careful. It could, after all, be a shifter that changed into a kid hoping Bobby wouldn't put it down.

"P-please, it's h-h-hurts." The voice now sobbed, pain lacing its words. Bobby reached the back of the barn and what he saw made his throat burn with bile.

In a pure silver cage, about three sizes too small, was a little boy stark naked. Under the red irritated skin the silver was causing was a crisscross of scars all over the creature's back, some still red and inflamed. He couldn't have been more than nine years old. The boy's – no, the monster's – short, light brown hair was matted with blood and fat tears leaked out of its brilliant green eyes. Bobby was at a loss of what to do. It was a monster, probably a shifter or skinwalker; he couldn't just let it go. But then again, he was also a little boy. God, he was just a boy.

Bobby knelt down and pulled out his lock pick from his back pocket. He made quick work of the lock and swung the cage door open. The boy wormed his way out of the cage, whimpering as the silver continued to burn his skin. Once he was free he shifted into a beautiful dark blonde German Sheppard puppy. _So, he's a skinwalker_ Bobby said to himself. If Bobby knew what was best for him he would but a bullet in the mutt's brain and be on his way. But there was something about the little pup that pulled on his heart strings. He didn't choose this life, hell the boy was probably taken from his family and turned into this. It wasn't his fault he was a monster. The pup whined pitifully, looking up at Bobby with big green eyes.

Aw hell. Bobby scooped up the pup into his arms and took off into a run back to his car. It was still a kid, he hadn't killed anyone yet. Maybe if he raised it, took care of it, treated it like a boy, maybe it wouldn't grow up to be a monster. Back at the car, he put the pup in the front seat and turned the heaters on full blast. The pup curled up into an impossibly small ball and whined softly. Bobby tore out of his hiding spot and drove like hell back to his scrap yard.

~o0**0o~

After a rather stressful trip to Wal-Mart that ended with his front seat becoming a chew toy for one freaked out puppy and several outfits for a nine year old boy, Bobby made it back to the scrap yard in a serious need for a drink. He carried the pup into his house and deposited it on the threadbare carpet in his living room. Immediately the pup curled up into a ball and squeezed its eyes shut tight. Bobby went into his kitchen and began to rummage through his fridge for some food. God knows the last time the pup had anything to eat. From the look of his human form, it had been a while. Of course he could give it some of Rumsfeld's food but that didn't sit right with Bobby. It was part human after all, it deserved some human food. Settling for leftover pork and beans, Bobby plopped the food into a bowl and heated it up in the microwave. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the dog's ears perk up and sniff the air hopefully.

"You hungry?" he asked the dog, taking the food from the microwave and placing it on the kitchen table. The pup raised its head and let out one small yip. "Well you ain't gonna eat as a dog in house, change." Bobby ordered. It was harsh, ordering the pup around but, he needed answers only a human could answer. The pup obeyed and in seconds it changed from the timid little dog that sat curled up on the floor to an equally timid, naked boy. "Here, take these." Bobby said handing the boy some clothes. The boy took the clothes but looked unsure what to do with them.

"W-what are these?" the boy asked his voice rough from disuse.

"You ain't ever seen clothes before?" Bobby asked astounded. He knew the trade ring was run by bastards but surely they didn't leave the boy naked all the time? A red flush spread across the boy's face as he ducked his head submissively and shook it. "Damn." Bobby breathed, disgusted.

"I'm sorry Sir." The boy mumbled sounding as if to be on the verge of tears.

"S'not your fault. C'mer I'll help ya." Bobby said taking the clothes back. He couldn't help but notice the boy flinch when he touched him. Anger welled up in Bobby's heart. For Christ's sake, he was just a boy! Now he was wishing he could do a little more than just call the cops on those bastards that did this. Once the boy was dressed, Bobby gently pushed him over to the table and pulled out the chair. The boy hesitated, looking at Bobby with his wide green eyes before climbing up and sitting down in front of the food.

"T-thank you Sir." He mumbled right before he picked up the spoon and started shoveling the food in his mouth.

"Slow down before you choke yourself, the food s'not goin' anywhere." Bobby said jokingly but the boy immediately stopped eating and looked up at Bobby with fear in his eyes.

"I'm s-sorry Sir, I didn't mean too. Please don't hurt me." the boy pleaded. Bobby found himself, once again, at a loss.

"I'm not gonna hurt ya kid, I just don't want ya to choke." He stuttered out. The boy nodded and dropped his eyes but did not touch his food. "What's your name kid?" Bobby asked.

"Dean Sir." Dean replied keeping his eyes downcast.

"You gotta a last name there Dean?"

"No Sir, I don't remember it Sir."

"Do you know how old ya are?"

"Nine Sir, I think."

"Stop with the 'Sir' crap. You're makin' me feel older than I am. Call me Bobby." Bobby said with smiled pushing the bowl of food closer to Dean, trying to get him to continue eating.

"Yes S-Bobby."

"Good. So Dean, how long were you in that cage?" Bobby said getting right down to business. Dean picked up the spoon and began picking at the beans, swallowing hard. He shrugged trying to block out the memory of the silver stinging his skin or the words the others would sling in his direction. "Ok, what about before? Where were you before the barn?" Bobby kept pushing.

"At the training house." Dean said with a shiver. He didn't like the training house. The walls were too white, the lights too bright. It smelled too, like sweat and blood and soiled garbage. There was pain at the training house. Whips that would tear into your flesh if you said the wrong thing, needles they poked you with just to see what would happen, fists that just loved to pound into your stomach if you were disrespectful. Another involuntary shiver ran down Dean's spine as his stomach bubbled uncomfortably.

"What did they do there?"

"I-I don't wanna talk about it." Dean said softly his heart thumping in his chest. A cold sweat broke out across his forehead as the memories came flooding back. He wasn't there anymore. He was here in this man's house. This man saved him; he didn't have to ever go back. Or at least Dean hoped he didn't. Maybe if he answered the questions wrong this 'Bobby' would send him back. He saw what Bobby did to the others like him back at the barn. Maybe Bobby will kill him too.

It suddenly got too hot in the kitchen. Dean needed to get away. It wasn't safe here. Bobby had to be one of those hunters the trainers always talked about. He had to be one of those people that killed monsters just like him. Bobby was only being nice to him to get information. Once Dean told him everything Bobby wanted to know, Dean was as good as dead. Dean dragged in shallow, ragged breaths as his eyes darted around the space looking for a way out.

"Whoa, whoa Dean calm down." Bobby said dropping down to his knees in front of the boy. "It's ok ya don't hafta talk about it. It's ok."

"I gotta go. I gotta leave." Dean said trying to stand up but Bobby's strong hands on his shoulders kept him seated.

"Why do you gotta go Dean? What's wrong?" Bobby asked.

"You're a hunter, you're gonna kill me." he cried. Bobby's hands fell away from the boy's shoulders as if he had been burned. Dean thought he was going to kill him. Well, wasn't that a kick in the pants.

"I'm not gonna hurt ya boy. I swear."

"Y-you killed the others, you k-killed them because they're m-monsters." Dean whispered still hyperventilating in his seat. "You're gonna kill me too because I'm an m-monster."

"No, I'm not Dean I swear I'm not gonna hurt you." Bobby said again with more conviction this time. It was the truth. It didn't matter that the kid was a skinwalker. All Bobby saw was a lost, scared little boy that needed someone to look out for him. He may not be father material but damn if he wasn't going to give it his best. "I got you out Dean, you're safe now. You ever have to be scared again."

"W-why?" Dean asked locking his bloodshot eyes on Bobby's faded blue ones. "I'm a monster, like the others. You should kill me."

"Have you hurt anybody before?" Bobby asked his hands resting on Dean's shoulders once more.

"N-no." Dean sniffed.

"Then you ain't a monster. You're just a boy." He smiled.

"I turn into a dog." Dean said with a pointed look. Bobby chuckled. He could already tell once this kid grows out of his shell he'll have one hell of an attitude.

"Well then you're just a boy with a little furry problem. You ain't a monster Dean. I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm gonna keep you safe. You got that?" Dean nodded. "Good, finish your food. It looks like you haven't eaten for weeks." Bobby ordered in a playful tone. Dean nodded again and finished off the food within seconds.

"B-Bobby can I ask you somethin'?" Dean asked timidly as Bobby took away his dirty dishes.

"Yeah kid."

"C-can I change when I want to?"

"Like change into a dog?" Bobby wondered. _No Singer, change into a monkey you dumb ass_, he thought to himself. But the question had already passed his lips.

"I swear I'll be good. I'll pee outside and everything. And I'm not like other dogs; I keep my human mind so I won't bark or be annoying or anything like that." Dean rambled.

"Yeah Dean. You can change whenever you want. And you ain't peein' outside. You can use the bathroom." Bobby said trying to suppress a chuckle.

"Really?" Dean asked in wonder.

"Really kid." He smiled. That bit of news seemed to loosen Dean up some. He gave Bobby a wide grin and leaned back in his chair. "So Dean, did you – I mean did they teach you anything when you were at…that place? Did they send you to school?" Bobby asked trying to avoid saying 'training house'.

"School is for humans, not dogs." Dean said quietly.

"Well do you wanna go to school?" The second Bobby asked he knew he made a mistake. Dean's face paled making his freckles stand out more than ever and his breathing picked up. The prospect of being stuck in a room full of humans was terrifying. Humans were mean, they hated monsters like Dean; they would hurt him. Bobby swore he was going to be safe, why would he ship him off to school where he could get hurt?

"No." Dean nearly cried. "I-I don't want to. Please Bobby don't make me. You can teach me stuff right? P-please don't make me go, please."

"Relax Dean, if you don't wanna go you don't hafta go."

"I don't wanna go."

"Fine, I'll teach ya. Hell I might even teach you to hunt if you wanted." Bobby said doing his best to keep Dean calm.

"Teach me to hunt bad guys?" he asked tilting his head to the side, his breathing slowly evening out.

"Only if you want to." Bobby emphasized. Dean nodded pulling his feet up to his chest. He looked so small curled up like that, way smaller than a nine year old should. Nine year olds should be running around the house causing trouble and acting like smart asses. They shouldn't be this withdrawn and subdued. The very sight of Dean's small frame and neglected looked made Bobby want to gather him up in his arms but at the same time slit the monster's throat that caused him to be like this. "Why don't you pick up those clothes and I'll show you to your room?"

"I get my own room?" Dean asked hopping down from the chair, a glint of excitement shining in his eyes.

"Yeah kid, your own room." Bobby said with a sad smile_. Not a cage, no chains, just a bed, blankets, and a pillow. You'll never be chained up again_, Bobby thought as he led Dean up the stairs.

Later that night, Bobby found himself sitting on his couch reading over some lore on skinwalkers. He thought it would be best to know everything about them seeing as he'll be practically raising one. Never in his life did Bobby dream he'd be taking something of the supernatural world under his wing. If other hunters knew what he was doing they'd look down on him and call him weak, hell some might even try and hunt the kid. But Bobby knew it was the other way around. Taking Dean in wasn't an action of some big old softy. It was the right thing to do, monster or not, that boy needed someone to look after him. The sound of claws tapping on wood drew his attention to the pup that was bounding down the stairs, his coat looking much cleaner than before. Dean wagged his tail happily as he jumped up on the couch. Bobby smiled as he reached over and scratched him behind the ears. He saw Dean tense at his touch but once it registered that Bobby wasn't going to hurt him, Dean scooted closer and rested his head on the older man's lap.

Dean liked Bobby. He was the first human that saw Dean as more than just a monster. He saved him. Part of him, the part that always believed that with every ray of sunshine, there was a dark could to follow, told him to not get too comfortable around the man. He might be nice now but how nice will Bobby be when Dean got older? The trainers always told Dean that he was a screw up with an attitude problem. They told him that no one would ever love a monster like him. Would Bobby start to hate him like the trainers forced him to believe? Dean let a little whine escape as he thought of Bobby hurting him. In response Bobby began scratching behind his ears again. Warm tingles ran down his spine right to his belly. God that felt good. Maybe the trainers were wrong. Maybe Bobby really did like him. Dean decided he wasn't going to trust Bobby all the way, not until he proved himself. But if he kept up with the scratching, he might just become Dean's favorite person ever.

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**a/n: Sam and John will be making an appearance in the upcoming chapter for those of you wondering. Tell me what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**a/n: Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and follows :) Just a reminder this is not beta'd so all mistakes are my own. This chapter has brief mentions of child abuse so beware. enjoy!**

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**Six Years Later**

Pain, that's all he could think of. It filled him up, every pore, every fiber of his being, burning with each lash of the whip, each cut of the silver knife. He could feel the heat from his own blood spilling down his back, crimson rivers making puddles on the dirty floor. He felt his flesh being ripped from his bones, salty tears forming in his eyes as he begged for mercy. There was laughter ringing in his ears, his abuser finding humor in his pain. He wanted it to stop. God he would give _anything_ just for it to stop. He felt the familiar prick of a needle and the cold sensation of something being injected into his arm. The room would spin as knives stabbed at his stomach. He screamed, screamed until his voice was raw and he could feel his blood in the back of his throat. Nightmarish visions danced in front of his eyes, tormenting him. His body started convulsing, muscles locking and limbs flailing around, smashing into the ground, his bones snapping on impact. He could feel the darkness setting in, his body growing heavy. Maybe this time he won't wake back up, maybe this time it'll be the end_. 'You're going to die here dog. You're nothing but a worthless monster, no one is ever going to love you piece of shit mutt.'_ Something white hot burned through him, making his small lifeless body arch up off the floor, his mouth opened in a soundless scream. Somewhere in the back of his mind, before the darkness took him, he heard a baby crying.

Dean woke with a start, his body drenched in sweat. Without a second thought, he stumbled from his bed reaching the bathroom just before his stomach revolted. He doubled over until his stomach was empty and dry heaves wracked his body. He squeezed his eyes shut fighting through the pain, forcing himself to calm down and take deep breaths. Finally, after what felt like hours, his stomach began to ease up and Dean fell back onto the cold bathroom wall, shaking. It had been a while since he had a nightmare that intense. It felt so real, like he was really back at the training house and the past six years had been some drug induced dream. But he wasn't, he couldn't be. Bobby saved him. Dean pinched himself just to be sure that the bathroom he was seeing was really there.

No matter how hard he tried to push the memories away, they always came back to him in the end. It was as if they had somehow become part of who he was. All the torture and pain and blood would forever be stuck to him. He was defined by it, stupid little dog boy who was just too much fun to beat up. Dean would never be able to shake it; he would never be able to forget.

Rubbing his hand over his face, Dean pushed himself to his feet. The world tilted causing Dean to reach out and grab the sink. He waited a few seconds, taking deep steadying breaths. Once the dizziness passed he walked back into his room and began stripping. Dean was fit for a boy his age, somehow missing that awkward tall and gangly phase. Bobby said it was because of his 'furry problem' that somehow after he was changed his DNA make up changed too. So instead of looking like the rest of the fifteen year old kids, skinny and pimply, Dean was tall and muscular. He had other differences too, he was able to heal faster, see father, and hear better than before. But with all of these changes the one thing that never went away was the bite mark on his left shoulder or the scars on his back inflicted by a sliver knife. Just like the nightmares, they would be stuck with him forever too.

Now completely naked, Dean took a deep breath and shifted. Shifting wasn't an uncomfortable sensation at all. In fact it felt almost, peaceful. The softening of his bones as they morphed and reshaped created a cool sensation all over his body, like stepping into a pool on a hot summer's day. And there was a feeling of power that came along with it, like he could do anything, hell he could take on world if he wanted. The trip he got from being on four legs was better than any high any druggie could get from a needle. When Dean was in his dog form, he was the king of the world.

Things were easier when he was a dog. He didn't have to talk or carry on conversations. He could just go about his day wandering the junk yard, chasing after squirrels or whatever shit dogs did for fun without any explanation. Bobby had soon learned that shifting into his dog form was Dean's way of coping with things and didn't try to coax him to shift back. In fact, Dean spent most of his time on two legs. After the first couple of months living with Bobby, Dean grew more trusting, staying in his human form longer and longer, allowing himself to get comfortable. For once he believed that there was no dark cloud following this ray of sunshine around.

Bobby saving him from the barn was the best thing to ever happen to Dean. He took him in despite knowing what he really was and cared for him, loved him even. He fed him real human food, gave him clothes to wear, and even taught him math and how to read and write. Bobby showed him how to shoot a gun and hold his own in a fight. He taught him the ropes of being a hunter and what made cars tick. Bobby did everything a father should for his son and Dean was beyond grateful. Considering how things could have turned out, Dean was kinda glad he was stuck in the god awful cage when he was, otherwise Bobby may have never found him.

Giving his whole body a shake, Dean made his way down stairs, taking them two at a time. He ran into the kitchen and placed his front paws on the counter where Bobby stood busy fixing breakfast.

"Rough night?" was all Bobby asked. Dean lifted his eyebrow.

_What tipped you off Sherlock?_ Dean thought.

"Yeah, yeah smart ass." Bobby said as if he heard him. "Besides, it's probably a good thing that you decided to wolf out today. Got a new hunter stopin' by. Says he's run out of funds and needs a place to lay low for a while, might end up stayin' for a bit. That gonna be ok with you?"

Dean growled and dropped back down on all fours. He wasn't a big fan of hunters, much less hunters that stayed over for any period of time. When any of them came to call, he would 'wolf out' as he and Bobby liked to call it. It was much easier explaining a new dog than a fifteen year old boy. Plus it kept Bobby's name clean. God knows what some hunters would do if they found out Bobby had a skinwalker running around his house. But just because Dean didn't mind running around as a dog, he still liked walking around on two legs too. Bobby chuckled and placed a plate of bacon down on the floor for Dean.

"Cheer up kiddo, this guy's got a kid you can play with." He joked as Dean greedily woofed down the food. The mere mention of kid made Dean choke up. Kids were little shits that liked to pull his tail and call him a cute little puppy. Dean hated kids and he wasn't a damn puppy. He was a full grown German Sheppard for Christ's sake! Not some pathetic little Chiwawa. Dean growled, exposing his teeth. "You can fight it all you want tough guy, they're still comin'." Dean growled again and finished off the last scraps of his bacon. _Awesome, not only do I have to worry about some stupid hunter poking around but his little brat too. Just fan-fucking-tastic. _He thought. "Whenever you're done with that internal monolog I'm sure you're havin' I have a job for you." Bobby said sitting down at the table to start on his breakfast. "I need you to snoop around the yard for a front fender, gotta a '56 Ford to fix up for a friend. There should be a couple of Fords out there somewhere."

Dean whined. Trust Bobby to give him jobs even when he was in his dog form. The grumpy old man can't let him have just one damn day just to sit around. Bobby Singer didn't believe in days off for dog or man. Snatching up the last piece of bacon, Dean trotted out of the kitchen leaving his plate on the floor. _Pay back old man_, Dean thought as he heard Bobby mumble something about 'not being his personal maid'.

Pushing up on his hind legs Dean worked his paws on the door knob twisting it to open. After flat out refusing to use a doggy door, Dean taught himself to learn how to turn the door knobs without hands. He'd rather take on the struggle than humiliate himself by using a doggy door. Not to mention that they made him use a doggy door back at the training house. One less trigger meant one less nightmare to worry about.

It took a couple of seconds but Dean finally managed to get the door opened. He bounded off the front porch barking happily as the morning air invigorated his spirit. Bobby's real dog, Rumsfeld looked up from his spot on a rusted truck hood and watched Dean with uninterested eyes. Blinking a few times he lowered his head again and went back to sleep. Rumsfeld was curious around Dean the first time he met him in dog form. But after a bite to the leg he received when trying to sniff Dean's butt, the dog kept his distance. Dean smirked from the memory and took off through the maze of junk cars that littered the yard.

Two hours later and Dean still hadn't found the old Fords Bobby had been talking about. The more he thought about it, the more Dean was starting to suspect Bobby only sent him out here to keep his mind off of the hunters. He was about to run back to the house and literally chew Bobby out when the deep rumble of an engine cut through the quite atmosphere of the salvage yard. Dean's ears perked up. It was still a seconds away from the actual house but Dean could guess who it was, it was the hunters. Jumping from one car to the other, Dean reached the edge of the mass of cars just as the hunters pulled up. If Dean was in his human form his jaw would have dropped at the sight he saw.

She was beautiful. Black as night and curves sweeter than any woman he'd ever seen. She was the prettiest damn car in the world. Sure Bobby had some pretty sweet cars hanging around but this baby but them all to shame. It was a Chevy Impala, '67 if he had to guess and in near perfect condition. Dean could feel his fingers itching to get under her hood and have a look around. The squeak of doors and the crunch of gravel beneath boots however drew Dean's attention away for the beautiful ride.

Whereas the car made him feel all tingly inside the hunter made his heart stop with fear. The hunter, dressed much like every other hunter, had dark brown hair, almost black and scruffy beard that was in a desperate need of a shave and he was tall, taller than Bobby at least. But it was his presence that Dean feared the most. It was dark and menacing, like a man who had been trapped in hell and lost himself along the out. Dean shivered at the sight of the man. Most hunters that came around had a hardened look about them but this guy, his guy looked dangerous. One wrong move and he wouldn't hesitate to shoot you down.

"Come on Sam, move your ass!" the hunter barked in a deep voice walking around to the back of the Impala. The hard tone made Dean's hair stand on end.

"I'm comin' hold on, geez." A younger voice replied. _The kid_, Dean thought. He looked around eleven years old and not nearly as intimidating as his father. He was short with shaggy brown hair that fell into his eyes. "You don't have to be so pushy." The kid said moving to meet his father. The older hunter opened the trunk and pulled out two duffle bags, handing one to the kid and throwing the other over his shoulder. He took the lead walking up the front steps of the front porch but stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of the open door. The older hunter pulled out a gun from the back of his jeans and whispered to his kid.

"Get behind me Sammy."

Dean acted on instinct. He jumped from the car he was standing on and ran at full speed until he reached the bottom of the front porch, snarling at the hunters. His heart was thumping wildly in his chest. He saw was a strange man with a gun standing on his front porch, to him that was a threat. And he was sure as hell going to keep Bobby safe.

"What the hell?" the older hunter said spinning on his heels, his gun now pointed at Dean's head.

"Dad chill it's just a dog, you're scaring it!" the kid yelled trying to lower his father's arm only to be shaken off.

"Stay behind me Sam." The older hunter ordered.

Bobby came running at the sound of all the commotion, a shotgun in his hand. His eyes grew wide as he looked from the hunter to Dean to the gun.

"What the hell is goin' on here?" Bobby yelled his shotgun pointed at the hunters' chest.

"That your dog?" John asked eyeing Dean with dislike. _Feeling's mutual ass hole_, Dean snapped.

"Yeah, you wanna tell me why you have a gun pointed at him?"

"You wanna tell me why he looks like he wants to bite my head off?" the hunter pushed back.

"Relax Dad, he's just being protective." The boy said louder this time. "How would you feel if you saw a stranger come up to your house with a gun?" the boy walked up slowly to Dean holding his hand out in a very nonthreatening manner. Dean stilled, his teeth still bared, but didn't flinch as the boy placed his hand on his head and started scratching. He fought the urge to start wagging his tail at the sensation. "See, he's harmless, just worried about your owner aren't you?" he boy asked. Dean let out a little growl. _I'm not that harmless short stop_ Dean thought.

"You wanna put that gun away now?" Bobby snapped. The hunter held his hands up in surrender and tucked his gun away behind his back. With a nod Bobby dropped the shotgun down to his side. "John Winchester I take it?"

"Bobby Singer?" John asked.

"The one and only, come on in." Bobby said opening up his home. The boy stopped petting Dean and followed his father inside. Dean shot Bobby a look as he followed the men in but Bobby just shrugged his shoulders and closed the door. He ushered them into the kitchen offering this John Winchester a beer and the kid a glass of water. They both drank deeply neither of them reacting to the holy water Dean knew Bobby laced all of his drinks with.

"Sorry, about the dog." John started to explain. "I saw your door open, thought something might have happened…"

"Don't worry about it; Dean can be a real pain in the ass sometimes." Bobby said forgetting the matter just like that. Dean growled from the doorway, not being as forgiving.

"D-Dean?" John asked his voice strained. Dean could have sworn he saw the hunters eyes tear up but it must have been the light.

"Yeah my dog." Bobby said nodding in Dean's direction.

"Oh, well this is my boy Sammy." John said clearing his throat as he clapped a large hand on the boy's shoulder.

"It's Sam." Sam said worming his way out from his Dad. Sam reached his hand out for Bobby to shake much unlike his father who seemed to dislike pleasantries. Bobby gave Sam a warm smile as he shook his hand that made Dean's skin crawl. The only other person who had ever been on the receiving end of that smile was Dean. A pang of jealous and fear ran through Dean. What if Bobby liked this Sam kid better? Would he kick Dean out, even after everything? _Shut up you're being stupid_, he berated himself. _Bobby's not going to kick you out because of some puck hunter kid. Stop acting like a little needy bitch_.

"Nice to meet ya Sam." Bobby said kindly.

"Sam, why don't you go look around outside?" John said shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. "I've gotta talk to Bobby about some stuff."

"Hunting stuff?" Sam asked his tone hopeful. "Can I know?"

"No, Sam, just go outside and play or something." John ordered sounding exasperated.

"I don't want to." Sam challenged.

"Damn it Sam, just go outside, please."

"It's not that bad out there," Bobby said jumping to the older man's aid. "Take Dean, he'll show you around. You're Daddy and I won't be long." Sam turned to look at Dean with his blue green eyes. Dean looked right back, daring him to say something.

"Fine." Sam said with a slump of his shoulders. He shuffled outside leaving the door open for Dean. Dean didn't move but looked at Bobby with pleading eyes. _Come on man don't send me to the kids table. Hell don't send me anywhere with a kid. Let me stay inside with you_.

"Dean, outside." Bobby ordered pointing at the open door. Dean gave a growl but did as he was told. _Awesome, fun times with hunter Jr._ Dean thought as he trotted outside to his doom.

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**Sam and Dean time to come in the upcoming chapter! Tell me what you think**


	4. Chapter 4

**a/n: thanks again for the reviews, follows, and favorites! Here's the next chapter, enjoy!**

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The kid sat on the bottom step of the front porch with his knees pulled close to his chest. He looked sad like someone took away his favorite toy or kicked his puppy. Dean stood by the front door unsure what to do. He had never really ever been alone with a stranger before, well not since…that place. Plus he didn't know anything about this kid. For all he knew, he and his father were big on killing skinwalkers. _You really think Bobby would let someone in his house like that jackass_? Giving himself a shake, he made his way down the stairs and sat directly in front of the kid.

Sam looked up at him, brushing his messy hair out of his face. His eyes were wet with tears making Dean's heart squeeze painfully. He didn't know why but, he didn't like seeing the kid upset. It made him feel weird inside like it was somehow his fault. Something deep down told him it was his responsibly to keep this kid happy. Dean's tail thumped nervously on the ground. What was he suppose to do? Dean was just a dog in his eyes. How could he cheer this kid up as a dog? An idea suddenly clicked and Dean took off in the direction of the garage returning a few seconds later with a bright yellow tennis ball in his mouth. He dropped the ball at the kids' feet and took a step back, his tail wagging furiously. Kids liked to play fetch with dogs right? Surely this will cheer Sam up.

"You wanna play boy?" Sam asked picking up the ball and looking over at Dean.

Dean barked happily. He felt a jolt of excitement run through him. This was kinda thrilling. Yeah it was lame and overly typical for a dog but seeing the smile break out on the kid's face was worth it. Besides, Dean never had anyone to play with before. This might actually be fun. Sam stood up and brought his arm back ready to let the ball fly.

"Go get it boy!" Sam cried sending the ball soaring in the air. Dean chased after it. Pushing up off his powerful hind legs, he jumped up and caught the ball in midair. Sam let out an excited whoop punching his fist in the air. "That was awesome!" he said taking the ball back from Dean. "Do it again!"

For the next hour Sam and Dean played their version of fetch. Sam would throw the ball as far and high as he could while Dean jumped to catch the ball before it hit the ground. Dean had never felt so alive before in his life. Running and jumping around without a care in the world, it almost made him forget about his awful dream. Sam seemed to like the game too and weirdly enough that made Dean feel even better. After one particularly exuberant jump where Dean attempted to do a flip sending his ass crashing down to the ground, Sam started laughing so hard he snorted. Dean came trotting over as Sam rolled around on the ground still laughing, tears of joy forming in his eyes. Sam reached out and began scratching Dean behind the ears. Dean hummed happily, licking at Sam's face.

"You have to be the coolest dog ever." Sam said with a smile. Dean barked in agreement. _You got that right short stop. I'm the best damn dog in the world. _"C'mon, let's explore the junk yard." Sam said jumping to his feet and running into the maze of rusted cars, Dean right on his heels.

Sam and Dean spent the rest of the day running through the junk yard playing everything from hide and seek to soldiers fighting in a war against an army of zombies. The only time they stopped was when Bobby called them in for lunch which they guzzled down, eager to get back outside. John sat quietly at the table watching his boy with amazement. Bobby just chuckled.

By the time the sun had begun to set they found themselves sitting on the hood of some broken down truck, completely worn out. Sam had his head reclined back looking at the sky his hand scratching at Dean's head absentmindedly.

"You have no idea how easy you have it Dean." Sam said making Dean lift his head up to look at the boy. "You don't have to worry about school or hunting or anything like that. You can just spend your days doing whatever you wanted."

Dean huffed. _Kid you have no idea how wrong you are_, he thought softly.

"You don't have to be ordered around all the time like a little kid. 'Clean the guns Sam. Look up lore on Wendigos Sam. Do this, do that.'" Sam said putting on his best imitation of his father. "God it's so annoying. But it's all he cares about, hunting. He doesn't even notice how miserable I am. He keeps talking about how I need to protect myself from the supernatural but he won't talk to me about it, like I don't already know what hunting's like. I hate it Dean. I wish I could stay here with you."

_You mean you wish you could stay with the dog_ Dean thought as something broke inside of him. Sam didn't want to stay with Dean, he wanted the dog Dean was pretending to be. Sam didn't know anything about him. He had spent the whole day playing and hanging out, falling into the illusion that he had made a friend for the first time in his life only to realize it was all a lie. Sam was friends with a dog, not the boy hiding behind the fur.

_God, how stupid are you_, he thought. _What did you expect to happen? Kids like dogs, you look like a dog of course he is going to like dog you_. He shouldn't have tried so hard to make Sam feel better. He should have ignored the strange connection he felt with the kid and went about his day like it was any other. If only he had done that then he wouldn't be where he was now, even more alone than before. Dean let out an involuntary whine that caught Sam's attention.

"What's wrong boy?" Sam asked directing Dean's head to rest on his lap. Dean didn't try to fight it. Might as well enjoy the comfort while it lasted, right? "You want me to stay too?" _God yes _Dean thought feeling his body shake as Sam ran his hand through his fur. "Maybe we can both run away. I could get a job when I'm older, go to college, become a lawyer. How does that sound?"

Dean whined again because he knew the truth. Sure, Sam might actually get away and become a lawyer one day but Dean would never get that chance. He was a monster. Monsters didn't get to go to school or get jobs; they were hunted, killed by hunters like Sam's dad. Dean didn't have a future like Sam. He could feel himself slipping into the dark hole he lived in before Bobby came along. It was pulling him down faster than he could try and talk himself up again. Fear and self-loathing coursed through his veins like poison. He was nothing but a useless mutt.

"Sam, get in here!" John's voice called out across the junk yard from the house.

"There he goes again barking orders." Sam said with a roll of his eyes make no move to get up.

"Sam!" John called again.

"I'm comin'!" Sam yelled back. He sat up and slid off the hood of the car grumbling curses at his father. Dean made no indication of following, staying curled up on the hood. John had called for Sam to come in not Dean. Humans slept inside and Dean wasn't human. He was a goddamn dog. Sam looked back at him with a frown on his face. "C'mon boy." He said slapping his leg. If Dean was in his right mind acting like the devil may care teenager he had become he would flat out refuse to follow an order like that but his insecurities created by his abuse had taken over turning him into the submissive little boy Bobby had saved nearly six years ago. With ears lying flat on his head he followed Sam into the house.

"Head on up stairs kiddo." John said the second his son walked through the front door. "Its bed time." he and Bobby were sitting at the kitchen table pouring over some old lore books, empty beer bottles adding to the clutter of paper. Dean stood submissively behind Sam, waiting to be told what to do next.

_Way to show off that brilliant self esteem there Dean-o _his inner voice snapped at him sounding not unlike a trainer. _Just keep on acting like that poor pitiful pup you are. Keep on taking steps backwards._ _You just go right ahead and forget about all those talks you had with Bobby about how important you are. Keep on thinking how useless you are you little bitch. Keep on turning into what the trainers wanted you to become you stupid mutt._

"But Dad it's only like eight thirty!" Sam whined.

"Yeah and you have school tomorrow, so get going."

"School? What do you mean school?"

"Well we're going to be here for awhile right? So Bobby pulled some strings and registered you at the local middle school today while you were out playing with the dog." John said feeling rather proud of himself. A smile broke out across the kid's face.

"Thanks Dad thanks Bobby." Sam said.

"No problem kiddo, now get goin'." John smiled back. Dean thought the smiled looked strange on John's face, like he wasn't use to do it. But there was something familiar about it, like he had seen it before.

_Yeah where have you seen it before? In those stupid fantasies you make up? Because that's real reliable _his inner voice said with a sarcastic sneer. Dean ducked his head as Sam gave him a little pat before heading up stairs. John and Sam would be staying in his room while they were staying over which meant that Dean would have to be crashing on the couch. Tucking his tail between his legs Dean made his way to the living room and hopped up on the couch, missing Bobby's worried stare. He curled up into a ball and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't hear Bobby excuse himself or his soft footsteps approach. He did however feel the gentle hand resting on his back.

"You ok there kiddo?" Bobby asked concern lacing his every word. "Do we need to talk about it?" he asked again when Dean didn't acknowledge him. "C'mon Dean, you're scarin' me, what happened?"

Dean opened an eye to stare at Bobby. Apparently whatever shown in his eye made the color drain from his face and call out to John.

"I'll be back in a couple minutes John, gotta take Dean out for a walk." He called over his shoulder.

"I'll be here." John replied not looking up from his book.

"C'mon kiddo, we gotta talk." Bobby said grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch and heading outside, Dean not far behind. The whole way to the garage a sense of dread grew in Dean's gut. Bobby was mad at him that could be the only explanation. He was finally going to beat him; the dark cloud was rearing its ugly head. Once they were in the safety of the garage Bobby gave Dean a look that could only mean one thing. Dean shifted standing in front of Bobby stark naked and shivering. Bobby wrapped him in the blanket before holding him close.

Dean couldn't hold back anymore. Sobs racked his body as Bobby rubbed his back whispering comforting words into his ear. God he was acting like such a baby. He was fifteen years old damn it, not some bitchy little two year old. Why was he getting so worked up over some stupid conversation? It's not like he had known Sam for so long and he just now became a skinwalker putting their friendship in jeopardy. He just met Sam today and he would be gone in a month. Why was this bothering him so much?

"Dean talk to me son, what's goin' on in that head of yours?" Bobby asked still holding him close.

"I'm sorry." Dean said trying to control his voice. "I can't."

"You can't what son?"

"I don't know." he admitted only making him cry harder. How could he tell Bobby? Sorry I'm acting like a kid, I'm just upset that I can't have friends because I'm a fucking monster. _Oh yeah, that's a good one tough guy_, he scorned himself. He couldn't tell him just like he couldn't tell him about the hell he lived through. He just couldn't so Bobby held him and waited for Dean's sobs to settle. Bobby held onto him like he could disappear at any second and Dean let him.

When his tears had stopped Dean pushed himself away from Bobby and hung his head. His nose was stuffy and his eyes felt puffy and itchy. Waves of exhaustion washed over him making him sway.

"C'mon Dean, let's go back inside ok?" Bobby asked softly. Dean nodded and quickly shifted back into his dog form, the blanket still wrapped around him. Bobby bent down and picked him up just like he use to do when Dean was still a little puppy. He carried him back to the house and gentle deposited him on the couch tucking him under the blanket. Bobby sat there petting him until Dean drifted off into sleep.

~o0**0o~

Dean woke with a start. His body was freezing and he felt the familiar burn of sliver on his skin. He glanced around at his surroundings with blurry eyes. He was in a stark white room with bright florescent lights hanging over head. There were sliver chains wrapped around his wrist and neck, shackling him to the wall he was leaning on. Across from him there was a figure, a boy around the age of eleven with moppy brown hair, chained to the wall just like him. The boy's head was bent low so that his chin was touching his chest.

"Hey." Dean called out his voice scratchy. The boy didn't move. "Hey!" he tried a little louder this time.

"Now, now mutt you know the rules, little doggies like you don't get to talk do they?" a chilling voice said coming from his right. Dean's head snapped around to find the head trainer from the training house standing in a doorway, a crooked smiled on his weasel like face. Dean's heart froze with terror.

"N-no, this isn't real. This is a dream." Dean stuttered. There was no way in hell he could be back here, no way.

"If it's a dream, then get yourself and your little friend out here mutt." The trainer said. Dean's breath caught in his throat as he looked over at the boy across from him. Oh god…

"SAM!" Dean yelled pulling on his shackles trying to reach the boy. "SAM!" the trainer laughed and slowly sauntered up to Dean, squatting down in front of him. Dean scooted back against the wall trying to get away from the horrid man before him. The trainer's cold hand reached out and grasped Dean by the chin, his finger nails digging into his skin.

"This is your fault mutt. You should have known we'd find you again, didn't expect you to be shacked up with a hunter but he was easily disposed of."

"No!" Dean said squirming in the man's grip tears stinging his eyes. Not Bobby, please god not Bobby.

"Oh yeah, him and that other hunter too, screamed like pigs the whole time. My Dogs had a real nice feast thanks to you." He chuckled. Dean felt like vomiting. They killed him. They killed Bobby all because of him. "And that sweet little hunter boy you call your friend, imagine what kinda pup he'd turn out to be. Stronger and better then you did you that's for sure." He sneered, shoving Dean's face away and landing a solid kick to his side. Dean doubled over in pain, the silver chain around his neck cutting off his supply of oxygen.

"D-don't touch h-him." Dean gagged as the trainer walked over to Sam's limp form.

"What are you going to do about huh mutt? You couldn't hurt a fly. Besides the hunter's boy will make a great addition to my pack." He said with an evil grin. The door to Dean's right opened and a large, ferocious looking Rottweiler came trotting in. "Pay attention mutt, I want to you see your friend here become a monster."

"N-no p-please d-don't hurt him!" Dean cried still straining in his bonds. "P-please h-hurt me! H-hurt me!"

"All in good time mutt, all in good time." The trainer gave the Rottweiler a nod indicating him to proceed. With a growl the dog opened its jaws and clamped down hard on Sam's shoulder.

"DEAN!" Sam's blood curling scream mingled in with Dean's as he watched the young boy wither in pain.

"Dean! Hey boy, wake up! Dean!" Sam's voice cried out dangerously close to his ear. "Wake up!" Dean jolted awake, lifting his furry head to find Sam's clear blue green eyes staring at him in concern. "Hey, hey, easy boy, easy." He cooed stroking Dean's neck. Dean looked around feverishly. He was at Bobby's, still on the couch nestled in a blanket. He wasn't at the training house, there was no dog, and Sam was safe. It had all been a dream. It was all just a dream. "That must'a been one scary nightmare boy, I'm surprised you didn't wake the whole neighborhood up." Sam said with a smile.

"Sam, s'matter?" John's groggy voice said from the stairwell.

"Nothin' Dad, Dean just had a nightmare, go back to sleep." Sam called back quietly.

"'Kay." There was a shuffle of feet and the soft thump of a door closing before things grew quite again. Sam jumped up on the couch and curled up behind Dean, throwing an arm him. Dean snuggled into Sam's warm body and whimpered, his body still shaking with fear. The dream had been too real, too vivid to just shake off. The sight of Sam's blood spilling on the floor and the evil crackle of the trainer's laughter was still fresh in his mind. He wanted to block it out, to forget but he didn't know how. But somehow Sam's presence made it better. The soft sound of his breathing was comforting to Dean, like a lullaby rocking him to sleep. As long as Sam kept breathing Dean knew he was safe, he knew both of them would be safe.

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**Some Dean and John time coming up soon! Tell me what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**a/n: thanks again for all the reviews, favorites, and follows! I'm so sorry for the wait. This chapter was a pain to write and my muse died half-way through. But I got my mojo back and here we are. As always, I hope you enjoy!**

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Dean could get use to life with the Winchesters around. Sure he was in dog form 99.9% of the time but it did have its advantages. He could sleep where ever and however long he wanted, he didn't have to do any chores, and didn't have to explain himself at all. He was free of all responsibility something he was sure grated on Bobby's nerves.

The days seemed to bleed together in a haze that mirrored some sort of daydream. Sam would leave for school in the morning leaving John, Bobby, and Dean alone at the house. Some day's John would help Bobby out in the junk yard with Dean watching attentively. Other day's they stayed inside pouring over lore books, John always in a desperate search for a hunt. He was the type of guy who couldn't sit still for very long, always needing to be on the move. Dean found that to be a trait they had in common. As much as he loved not having to work around the house, Dean became bored quickly if he didn't have something to do.

John, as it turned out, wasn't as bad as Dean imagined. He was a hard ass but after the first couple of days, he began to open up revealing a dry sense of humor that Dean found himself admiring. John had even begun to warm up to Dean, giving him little pats on the head and calling him by his name instead of 'the dog' or just plain old 'dog'. As nice was he was starting to be, Dean was still cautious. John could still find out what he really was and shoot him down before he even got a chance to explain.

Around dinner time Sam would come home, Dean meeting him at the bus stop, his tail wagging with excitement. They would race home and fall into a game of extreme fetch as Sam had taken to calling it. Dean had gotten use to the idea that Sam would never really be friends with him as long as he was a dog. It killed him a little every time that dopy smile broke out on the kids face but Dean pushed it down. He was going be the best damn friend whether he was a dog or not. After about an hour John would call Sam in to do his homework and dinner. The night would conclude with Sam and Dean sitting on the couch watching t.v until John or Bobby told them to go to bed. It was a simple life that Dean gladly accepted as the new normal.

Today found Dean trapped indoors as rain poured relentlessly from the sky. Bobby had gone into town for groceries while John sat at Bobby's large oak desk reading up on demons. Dean was on his back wiggling around trying to relieve a scratch that would not seem to go away. No matter which way he moved he could not get rid of the sensation. He let out of growl of frustration as he wiggled harder. John looked up from his research, an amused smile playing across his face.

_Yeah laugh it up old man_, Dean grumbled. _I'd like to see you do any better_.

"You doin' alright there Sparky?" John chuckled.

_My name isn't Sparky ass hat_; Dean barked growing more and more impatient. _Damn it!_

"C'mere boy, let me help you with that." John offered patting his thigh. Dean froze. He was torn between running over to the man and letting him scratch away his misery and biting his hand off. But Dean's need for relief was too great. He trotted over to John and allowed him to scratch his worn fingers along his back. Dean tried not to hum as John hit the spot, rubbing away his irritation. "That better?" John asked as Dean's tail thumped against his leg. Dean let out a bark of gratitude before slipping away and jumping up on the couch. John chucked, the corner of his eyes crinkling pleasantly. Dean expected John to go back to his work but instead he kept looking at him with a weird far off look in his eyes. It was unnerving to have John's full attention on him.

_Take a picture; it'll last longer_ Dean thought fighting the urge to squirm under John's direct stare.

"I had a boy named Dean." John said suddenly. "He was a wild like thing, even at four. I don't know why but, you remind me of him. I guess it doesn't help that you share his name right?" John laughed. It wasn't a happy kind of laugh, it sounded pained like just being in the same room with something named Dean caused him an agony so deep he would jump off a cliff just to end it. John looked down at his hands, twisting the wedding band on his finger over and over. "He disappeared a few months after-after his mom died, my Mary. I looked for him everywhere…everywhere but he was just gone. No leads, no clues, nothing, he vanished into thin air. It's my fault. I left him alone, God I couldn't have been gone for more than ten minutes. By the time I got back…"

Dean shifted uncomfortably on the couch. He didn't like this. Why was John telling him all this? He didn't want to know about this other Dean kid. It was too dark, too sad for someone who was already suffering from a traumatic childhood to deal with. Granted he didn't remember his life before the training house but Dean was sure it had to be similar to what John was describing. He was taken from somewhere, from someone before he had been turned into a monster. There had to be a mother or a father still out there grieving for their missing son right? Skinwalkers just didn't suddenly come into being, they were human once with real human parents.

"I don't know why the hell I'm telling you this." John said scrubbing a hand over his face to wipe away the tears forming in his eyes. "But sometimes I swear you look like you know what I'm saying. It kinda creeps me out."

Dean huffed in amusement. _Dude you don't know how right you are_.

"Call me crazy, but you got his stare. Dean use to give this look, like I had his full and complete attention. I knew whenever he looked at me like that, that he was going to do his best to do whatever I said. I only wish he'd listen to me that day. Maybe then he'd still be here." John said with tears in his eyes.

Dean jumped down from the couch. He made his way back over to John and rested his head on his leg. John seemed to have been taken aback by Dean's actions just as much as Dean was. _God, when did I become such a softy_? But John just looked so broken, the only thing Dean knew to do in this situation was provide comfort. John's hand hovered above Dean's head for a moment or two before he began to stroke it gently.

"You would have liked Dean." He huffed. "God I can see it now the two of you causin' more trouble than you and Sammy."

Dean whined happily, his tail wagging slightly. John sat there for a moment more, just stroking Dean's head before he got up and moved over to the couch, Dean following right behind him. They sat there until Bobby came back with an arm full of groceries and a soaking wet Sam at his heels.

"They canceled school." Sam said a little disheartened shaking his head like Dean would if he was that wet, spraying the floor with water. It was kind of funny to watch.

"They canceled school over a bit of rain?" John asked closing his book his free hand scratching Dean's belly.

"Flood warning." Bobby called from the kitchen. "Half of the roads are already flooded."

"My teacher said that if the rain doesn't let up they might even close the school tomorrow." Sam said coming to sit down next to his father, giving Dean an eager pat on the head. _Aww is geek boy goin' cry if he doesn't get to go to school?_ Dean teased licking Sam's hand.

"Only you would get upset over missing school Sam." John said with a crooked smile.

"It's not my fault I actually care about my education." Sam snapped.

"That's not what I meant Sam." The smile slipping from John's face.

"That's what it sounded like to me."

"You spoiling my dog there Winchester?" Bobby interjected before a fight could break out between the father and son.

"No more than usual." John said eyeing his son carefully.

"Then why don't you get off your lazy ass and help me with lunch." Bobby demanded before heading back into the kitchen. John rolled his eyes, gave Dean one last belly rub, and followed Bobby's orders. Sam watched his father pass, his lips a hard thin line. Dean could see why Sam got so angry with his dad. Hell the Winchesters had only been here three weeks and Dean knew them better than he knew himself. John was driven, by revenge from what he gathered today, and nothing was going to stop him from reaching his goal come hell or high water. Sometimes, John's drive made him blind to those around him. He didn't see Sam's wants just his own. It irked Sam, making him rebel which always lead to a fight.

But then Dean saw Sam acting the same way. He was driven, not by revenge but, his desire to do something with his life other than hunting. At times it made Sam just as short sided as John. They were like peas in a pod those two, more alike than different; they just couldn't see it themselves.

"Sometimes I think you're the only one who gets me Dean." Sam sighed scratching Dean behind the ears.

_Me too kid, me too_.

~o0**0o~

"You've got to be kidding me!" Sam roared slamming his pencil down so hard the tip broke off.

"Don't take that tone with me boy!" John roared right back pushing himself to his feet so fast his chair fell backwards.

"Why, you use it all the time with me! I don't see why I can't!"

"Because I'm your father, I'm allowed too!"

"Well I don't care I'm not going! I have a test tomorrow I'm not going with you!"

"The hell you aren't!"

"John don't you think you're bein' a little harsh?" Bobby interjected standing between the two fighting Winchesters.

"Stay out of this Singer." John threatened his glare icy.

"Don't you start yellin' at me in my own damn house Winchester!"

_Ok, that's it._ Listening to Sam and John go at it was enough to make him want to scratch his eyes out but with Bobby adding to the mix he just couldn't take it anymore. Dean let out a ferocious wolf like snarl that made everyone in the room flinch and shoot him a terrified glance. He stood with his feet spread, his lip raised showing off his teeth menacingly. _God damn it that was enough_.

The day had started out normal enough but as soon as the words 'I found a hunt' crossed John Winchester's lips all hell broke loose. Sam screamed and fought like a two year old and John screamed and fought right back. Bobby had stayed silent for the most part and Dean sat in the middle his eyes darting from Sam to John, back to Sam then back to John for a good twenty minutes. Now the room was dead silent with all eyes on him. If he was in his human form he'd be giving them all a piece of his mind right about now. _Jesus Christ, what is wrong with these people_? Dean was supposed to be the only monster here, not the two adult humans and one scrawny kid.

"John, listen," Bobby said calmly taking his eyes away from Dean. "I know a guy who lives up in that area, I'm sure he'd more than happy to help you out. Let Sam stay here."

"He needs to learn how to hunt Bobby." John said sternly. Sam opened his mouth to argue but, a bark from Dean cut him off before he got the chance.

"I get that, I do. I'm just saying; let him skip out on this one."

"And what about the next one; I'm just gonna let him skip out on it because he has some fucking project or somethin'?" John snarled grabbing for Sam's homework and crinkling it in his fist. "He has to learn Bobby. They killed his mother and brother; he has a responsibility to avenge their deaths!"

"How is it my responsibility? I didn't even know them!" Sam yelled clenching his hands into fists.

"They were your family Sam!"

"So what?! What good is family anyways?! I hate you and I hate this stupid family!" Sam screamed his face beet red, tears streaming from his eyes. He took off in a run, wrenching the door open so hard it nearly hit him on his way out. Dean growled at John, having no problem in voicing his disgust with the man.

"What you mad at me too?" John snapped back at him.

"John just give him some space, he'll calm down." Bobby said opening up the fridge and grabbing two beers.

"You might need somethin' a little stronger than that." John grumbled collapsing into Sam's now empty seat.

"I'll get the whiskey then." Bobby said. "Dean go check on Sam."

Dean gave John one last growl before heading outside. _Stupid bastard_, he thought as he padded he way outside, the muddy ground squishing in between Dean's paws. He had no right to put all that responsibly on Sam. He was just a kid for Christ's sake. Sam was supposed to be worrying about pimples and girls, not avenging his dead family members. He may not have a father but Dean had enough sense to know that they weren't supposed to act the way John did.

Sam was out by the garage kicking an old tire, angry tears streaming down his face. Dean's heart broke at the sight. Sam was a good kid, why couldn't John just let him be? Dean approached Sam cautiously, letting out the smallest of whines to make his presence known. Sam pushed him away his hand hitting Dean across his muzzle. "Go away!" he yelled.

Dean was stunned. Sam did _not_ just hit him. After all he did for the kid, this was the thanks he gets? He gets hit because Sam's acting like a girl and having a temper tantrum? _I don't think so kiddo_, Dean snapped his own temper rising.

"I said go away you stupid dog!" Sam screamed when Dean didn't move. "I hate you! You hear me! I hate you!" He reached out to hit Dean again but Dean was faster. With a snarl he snapped at the boy, causing him to flinch back.

_What the hell is wrong with you? _Dean yelled in his mind. _This is the thanks I get for sticking up for you? I'm not some stupid animal you can push around ass hole_. Sam backed away. Dean knew he looked terrifying and he was glad. It severed Sam right. He was acting like a little bitch; someone had to put him in his place. Dean barked at Sam one last time before trotting back to the house.

_Fucking ridiculous_ Dean growled. He got that Sam was upset with his dad, he really did. Hell, Dean was just as mad at John as Sam was. But Sam was way out of line. If Dean had been human he would have hit the kid right back and then talked some sense into him. Maybe some time alone would do Sam some good. Give him some time to get his head on straight before he did something else he would regret.

Back in the house, Dean found Bobby sitting alone at his desk. He trotted up to him and sat obediently at his side letting out a frustrated growl.

"Missing the good old days when it was just me and you yet?" Bobby asked not looking up from the book he was reading. "Cuz' I sure the hell am. These damn Winchesters."

Dean barked in agreement. Sometimes they were too much to handle.

The sun had started to fade when Dean heard the sound of Bobby's screen porch opening and swinging shut. Dean was curled up on the couch watching t.v. as Bobby sat at his desk. John had gone up stairs to start packing. He had called up Bobby's friend to see if he would be interested in helping out with the hunt. Turned out the friend was more than happy to lend a hand, effectively letting Sam off the hook.

Dean glanced over in the direction of the door to see Sam standing sheepishly in the kitchen with his head bowed. He could tell there was something on the kid's mind, so he hoped down from his comfortable perch and made his way over to him.

"Hey boy." Sam said reaching his hand out to pet Dean. Dean couldn't help but flinch as Sam drew closer. A grimace crossed Sam's face. "I guess I deserved that don't I?" he said dropping to his knees in front of him. "I'm sorry Dean I didn't mean too, I was just s-so angry, he just makes me so angry sometimes that-that I can't control myself. I didn't mean to hit you I swear, I'll never ever do it again. I don't hate you, I don't." Sam pleaded growing close to tears. Hell, Sam was pulling off the puppy dog eyes better then Dean ever could and he was the dog. Dean licked Sam fingers accepting his apology. He couldn't stay mad at the kid, no matter how hard he tried.

_It's all good Sammy_. Dean thought.

"Here, I got you something." Sam said reaching behind his back and pulling something out of his pocket. "I found it snooping around some of Bobby's stuff outside; I don't think he'll mind if I give it to you."

Dangling in Sam's hand was an amulet, a simple bronze amulet hanging on a simple leather cord. One of those goofy smiles broke out on Sam's face as he slipped it around Dean's neck. "I know it's not much but, I thought you would like it."

Dean found himself floored once more. Only this time it wasn't with anger but with extreme joy. He barked loudly pushing up on his hind legs to give Sam some semblance of a hug. Sam laughed and hugged Dean back barring his head in Dean's fur.

"Well ain't this cute." John said from the steps, his arrival gone unnoticed by both Sam and Dean. Sam jumped back as if he had been electrified and ducked his head in guilt. "Sam," John coughed starting off strong but quickly faltering. "I ah- I mean, well, I guess what I'm trying to say is-"

Dean barked making both Sam and John jump in surprise. _Just spit it out already old man_.

"Sam, I'm sorry for yelling at you. I was out of line, I just want to get you prepared for what's out there, that's all." John said his shoulders slumping.

"I'm sorry too, for yelling at you and stuff." Sam mumbled not looking up at his father. "And I don't hate you."

"Well, that's good." John said with a revealed laugh. Dean looked between the father and son; _Jesus these two are ridiculous_.

"You three gonna stand there all night swapping apologies like women or are ya gonna help me get some grub on the table?" Bobby asked swooping in and defusing the awkward tension in a manner that only Bobby Singer could accomplish.

"Pizza sound good to everyone?" John asked clapping his hands together.

"I want pepperoni!" Sam called walking into the living room with Dean at his heels. Dean barked in agreement.

"You need to stop feeding Dean people food Bobby. He's gonna get fat." John said with a chuckle. Dean whipped his head around and growled at John. He was _not _going to get fat. _Bastard._

"Watch it John, you just might be his next meal." Bobby countered with a smirk reaching for his jacket.

"Yeah whatever." He sighed rolling his eyes. "You gonna be ok while we're gone Sam?"

"Yeah Dad. I've got Dean."

_You bet your ass you do. I ain't gonna let anything happen to you Sammy_. Dean thought wagging his tail enthusiastically. And Dean meant it, every word of it.

~o0**0o~

John left the next morning shortly after Sam caught the bus for school leaving Dean and Bobby in an unusual situation, they were alone.

"Well, there's no point for you to run around on four legs." Bobby said throwing some clothes at Dean's curled up form. Dean was more than happy to shift. After spending the better half running around as a dog, he had started to miss the joys that came with two legs. Within seconds he was standing and pulling on a pair of jeans.

"God I've missed the uses of thumbs." Dean said stretching his fingers out.

"Why don't you put those thumbs to use and fix up that old Chevy I've got sittin' out in the garage?" Bobby said sitting down at his desk and pulling out a lore book.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean whined. "I've been a dog for almost a month and the second I go two legged you put me to work?"

"What else do you wanna do? Talk about our feelings?"

"You're an ass." Dean snapped plopping down on the couch, wiggling his toes.

"You ain't a dog anymore boy. You better watch what you say." Bobby said with a pointed look. Dean shot him a nasty look back before cracking a smile.

"You know you've missed me."

"Sure didn't miss that mouth of yours." Bobby grumbled.

"Lyin' a sin you know." Dean smirked.

"You would know."

"Touché." Dean said causing Bobby to drop the tough guy act and chuckle. "On second thought, I think I will work on the car."

"There's a good boy." Dean rolled his eyes and pushed himself to his feet. God he missed his legs. "Just make sure you wolf out before Sam get's back."

"I'm not an idiot Bobby." He said before walking out the front door.

"Could've fooled me." Bobby muttered barely audible.

"I heard that!" Dean yelled making his way to the garage. It felt good to get back under a hood. Grease on his hands, sweat beading his forehead, the smell of oil, those were some things Dean would never tire of. Working on a car was the cure for everything in Dean's book. It was simple, find what's broken and fix it. If only life was that easy.

Dean got so swept up in working on the car that he barely noticed the hours ticking by. It wasn't until the rumble of an engine pulled Dean out of his trance and back into the real world. As far as Dean knew, Bobby wasn't expecting any visitors and it wasn't the rumble of the Impala's engine that he heard. Figuring it was a hunter stopping by for some advice Dean quickly hid in the shadows not ready to shift back into dog form. A red El Camino pulled up the drive as Dean made his way to the back of the house. There wouldn't be enough time for him to slip through the front door unnoticed, so Dean opted for the more difficult route. Gabbing onto the drain spout, Dean climbed up the side of the house and slipped through the window of Bobby's room. He could hear Bobby grumble from downstairs cursing Dean for pulling such a lame prank.

"It's not me old man, but you still fell for it." Dean said softly. He crept into the hallways and hid himself at the top of the stairwell just out of sight.

"Bobby Singer?" A deep voice asked.

"Who's askin'?" Bobby responded in his usual guff tone.

"Gordon Walker, I'm a…acquaintance of Ellen Harvelle." The voice said.

"So?"

"You took down that supernatural trading ring six years ago right?" Dean froze. This couldn't be good, not good at all.

"Yeah, so?"

"That was some damn fine work, takin' out all those freaks."

"You gotta point to this drive by?" Bobby demanded. "Or you just here to dish out complements?"

"I do, I do." the voice, Gordon Walker, chuckled. "You mind if I come inside?"

_No Bobby, don't let him in. He's bad news I can feel it_. Dean pleaded.

"Yeah c'mon in." Bobby said after a good minute. "You wanna beer?"

"I could always go for a cold one." Gordon said cheerfully. There was some shuffling of feet and tall tell sounds of a beer bottle opening before the conversation picked up again.

"What can I do for ya Walker?" Bobby asked as Dean heard the familiar scrape of Bobby's chair on the worn floor.

"Well I got some Intel from a buddy of mine a couple of day ago that one of the suppliers for the trading ring was back in business."

_Shit shit shit shit. Bad news Bobby. Bad fucking news_.

"That's fascinatin' I still fail to see what that has to do with me."

"They're sellin' skinwalkers." Gordon said with an evil smile lacing his words. Dean's heart thumped madly in his chest. It was them, the training house. They were back. A cold sweat broke out on Dean's forehead as he tried to control his harsh breathing. No, this couldn't be happening, not again. He got out, he got away. The training house was part of his past, not his future. Bobby promised that he would safe from them that he would never have to deal with those sadistic bastards ever again. This Gordon Walker had to be lying.

"Your point is what exactly." Bobby said keeping his cool not showing any fear.

"Well, my buddy was chatting up one of the sellers, pretending to be a buyer. He told my friend one hell of a story. He said that whoever killed all those monsters back at the trading post must'a missed one. See, the seller said he went back to the trading house before the cops showed up to count the bodies. He said there was a young skinwalker pup they were sellin', interesting enough the pup's body was missing. In fact there was no sign of the little monster anywhere."

"Somethin' must'a happened to it before I got there. I don't recall seein' a pup anywhere." Bobby said smoothly.

"Now why don't I believe you?" Gordon asked his tone no longer pleasant and friendly but cold and deadly.

"Where the hell do you get off accusing me?" Bobby snapped his anger evident in his words.

"Oh come on Bobby, a big softy like you? You probably took one look at the mutt and adopted it. Now I wanna know where it is, so tell me."

"Even if I did know, why in God's name would I tell you?"

"I'm gonna use it as bait. Tell those sellers I found their long lost pup and get them to lead me right into their base camp. I'm sure you can figure out what happens after that." Gordon sneered.

Dean felt like he was going to be sick. Gordon was going to take him back there. He shot to his feet, his flight or fight response kicking in. But Dean moved to fast, he stumbled over his own feet crashing to the floor. Dean held his breath hoping that by some miracle Gordon didn't hear anything.

"That's it isn't it?" Gordon asked with excitement crushing Dean's dream of going unnoticed. "You do have the skinwalker."

"Get the hell off my property." Bobby ordered followed closely by the sound of a gun cocking. "Now."

"Aw, c'mon Bobby you know I can't do that. I've got monsters to kill and your pup is the key to it all."

"I ain't gonna tell you again Walker, get the hell outta of my house and don't ever come back."

"Alright, alright I'll go." Gordon surrendered. "But I'm comin' for it Singer. One way or another I'll get the mutt and put him down like you should have done."

"Over my dead body."

"I'd rather not but if it comes to that…"

"Get out!" Bobby yelled.

"I'll see ya around Bobby." Gordon said before the door slammed in his face. Dean sat frozen on the floor, pulling in ragged breaths. Bobby's footsteps thundered up the stairs and stopped when Dean came into view.

"B-Bobby." Dean choked out in a small voice locking wide, fearful eyes on him. "Please don't let him take me back. P-please, I can't go back. Don't m-make me go back."

* * *

** I'll try and get the next chapter up as soon as possible but until then, tell me what you think**


	6. Chapter 6

**a/n: hey y'all, thanks as always for the review, favorites, and follows! They really make my day! I hope the wait wasn't too long for this chapter and seeing how it is now officially October 31st let me be the first to wish you a happy Halloween! This is not beta'd so all mistakes are my own, enjoy!**

* * *

Sam knew something was up the second he stepped off the bus. The biggest tip off was the lack of a German Shepherd waiting patiently for him at the entrance of Bobby's junk yard. Dean was always there, rain or shine to greet him. Not once had Dean missed a day, he had always been there. His absences sent chills down Sam's spine, his mind jumping to the worst possible conclusions. There was a sense of foreboding in the air that Sam knew had nothing to do with the abysmal weather.

Bobby was waiting for him on the front porch, shot gun in hand. His grey eyes scanning the area like a hawk. Sam knew the look; he'd seen his Dad wear it on many occasions. It was the look of a man who was on a hunt.

"Hey Bobby." Sam said as he drew closer. "Is everything ok?"

"C'mon on inside Sam." Bobby ordered holding the door open. Sam nodded and stepped inside without question. Bobby followed after, locking up the multiple locks on the door.

"Is somethin' after us Bobby?" Sam asked in his most grown up voice trying to hide the fear that was slowly growing.

"Not if I can help it." Bobby said with conviction. "You got homework to do?"

"Yeah but Bobby if there's somethin' after us maybe I can help-"

"Don't worry 'bout it Sam. Nothin' gonna happen." Bobby said steering Sam into the living room where Dean was pacing back and forth. "Get to workin' on that homework."

"But Bobby-"

"Damn it Sam." Bobby growled making the boy flinch. He took a deep breath to steady himself. "I know you wanna help boy. But there ain't nothin' you can do right now. When I need your help I'll let you know." he said calmly putting a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam nodded in understanding and trudged his way into the living room dragging his backpack behind him. _Well at least Bobby's not treating you like a little kid_. He thought plopping down on the couch. Sam patted the empty stop next to him expecting Dean to hop up beside him. But Dean didn't stop pacing. In fact, it seemed as if Dean hadn't acknowledged Sam's presences at all.

"Uhhhh Bobby, is there something wrong with Dean?" Sam asked watching the dog carefully. Bobby's head snapped away from the window to look at his dog. He knew Dean was distressed. Hell, if Bobby was in Dean's place he probably would have jumped off a bridge right about now. Dean was doing the best that he could with what he had. Bobby wished for nothing else but to hold him and keep him safe but, as long as a Winchester was around that was impossible.

"Dean, sit with Sam." He ordered. Dean froze at the order but quickly followed it acting as skittish and fearful as he did when Bobby first brought him home. His heart sank at the thought of all of Dean's hard work to build himself up into a new person came crumbling down.

Dean scooted close to Sam, allowing the boy to stroke his fur in long even strokes. It felt like his brain was short circuiting. Every noise, every movement was in Technicolor. His heart thumped wildly in his chest, fear eating away at his sanity. Gordon Walker knew what he was and he was going to kill him. No, it was worse. He was going to take Dean back. Nausea rose in this throat. He couldn't go back, he just couldn't.

"What's wrong boy?" Sam asked, concern dripping from his words.

_More like what's not wrong Sammy_. Dean trembled. God, he hated this, feeling so scared, so weak.

_That's because you are weak_. The trainer's voice sneered in his head. _Weak little mutt, that's all you are_.

Dean whined. He should run. That would be the smart thing to do. He could run as far away as possible keeping himself out of the clutches of the training house and Bobby and Sam safe. But he couldn't work up the courage to make that first move.

"Don't worry I won't let anything happen to you." Sam said holding Dean close. Sam's comfort felt reassuring but it quickly died away as the trainer's voice fought back with a vengeance.

_Look at that mutt_,_ the stupid little boy thinks he can protect you. But you know he can't don't you mutt? We're gonna get you back right where you belong. No one is going to keep you from us. _

Dean's whine turned into a growl. No, he wouldn't go back. He won't let them take him. He's come too far just to fail. He won't let Gordon take him. He won't let it happen.

_What could you possible do mutt? You're pathetic_. The trainer's voice taunted.

_Maybe_ _so, but I ain't gonna let anyone bully me around anymore. I'm better than that_.

_Keep that spark mutt; we might be able to make a killer out of you yet_.

The rest of the day passed without incident. Bobby kept everything on high alert, constantly checking the perimeter, scanning the junk yard, and putting up booby traps to catch any unwanted visitors. Sam stayed by Dean's side at all times. He felt better with his furry body pressed against him and Sam felt it Dean some good too. He became less jumpy when Sam was around, the fear slowly fading with every matching breath. Finally, long after the sun had set, Bobby sent Sam off to bed. Dean followed close behind and snuggled up next to him on the bed. Sam carded his fingers through Dean's fur slowly.

"What do you think has Bobby all freaked out?" he asked softly.

_You don't wanna know Sammy, trust me_. Dean thought.

"If dad was here, he wouldn't even tell me if something was wrong." Sam huffed. "He'd just push me out of the way. D'you think he'll let me stay here? You know, forever?"

Dean's ears perked up.

"I wanna stay here forever. Or maybe you could come with us! I'm sure Bobby wouldn't mind if you tagged along for a while. I could take care of you and you could help Dad out on hunts and stuff."

_I would if I could Sammy_. Damn this kid. Why did he always have to talk like that? Dean was just a dog; it wasn't like he was his brother or something. _Just go to sleep Sammy_. Dean thought placing a paw on his shaggy head. Sam chuckled and tickled Dean behind the ears.

"I love you Dean."

_I love you to Sammy_.

~o0**0o~

Bobby stared driving Sam to school every morning and picking him up every afternoon, Dean sitting in the backseat, his sharp green eyes watching everything. It had been almost a week since Gordon Walker's visit and not even the slightest attempt had been made to take Dean. Bobby knew better than to let his guard down so soon but, he was starting to hope that Gordon was all talk and no action. Dean was starting to feel that way too but like Bobby, he wasn't taking any chances. For all they knew Gordon was still out in the dark, lurking, waiting. The three of them did everything together. If Bobby had to go into town for food, Sam and Dean would be right there with him. They say there is safety in numbers and Bobby was keeping to that no matter what the cost.

On the eighth night since Gordon's threat, Dean was sleeping soundly in Sam's bed; Sam sprawled out next to him. The kid may be small but he sure knew how to take up space in his sleep. Dean was dreaming about taking the Impala out for a spin, the windows rolled down and Zeppelin blasting from the speakers, his legs twitching with excitement. Maybe Bobby could convince John to leave the Impala behind so Dean could get his chance behind the wheel. He had just gotten to the part where he would be in the back making out with a super hot chick when a slight sound, like a lock clicking open, made him jerk awake. His head shot up, blood pounding in his ears. Sam stirred at Dean's sudden movement but did not wake. He strained his ears listening closely, hoping and praying that what he heard was all in his head. Much to his great relief, the house stayed quite. Dean slowly relaxed, dropping his head to his paws. He tried to fall back asleep but thoughts of what the noise could have been filtered through his mind fighting off any notions of rest.

A few minutes later the bed dipped as Sam made his nightly pilgrimage to the bathroom only this time Sam walked right out of the room and headed down the stairs. Dean closed his eyes trying to force himself to sleep but the absence of Sam only made the scenarios in his head worse. He heard Sam fill a glass of water and pull out a kitchen chair. Dean contemplated going down to sit with him but thought better of it. He was being paranoid; Sam would be back any second now. But Dean's paranoia grew when he heard a noise again. It was a soft sound no human could pick up on, just the slightest shifting of floorboards under someone's feet. The groan of the floor was too deep to be cause by Sam's body and too balanced to come from Bobby. Dean heard Sam's sharp intake of air and a glass shattering on the floor. Fear stabbed at Dean's heart like an ice pick, someone was in the house. He leaped from the bed and bounded down the stairs, sliding to a stop in the kitchen, his eyes growing wide with what he saw.

Gordon Walker stood in the shadows of the doorway a gun pointed at Sam who stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen. The bastard had a gun pointed at Sam, like Sam was the monster not him. Anger over took Dean's fear as he growled and stood protectively in front of Sam.

"W-who the hell are you?" Sam gasped, his eyes locked on the gun that was pointed at his forehead.

"Doesn't matter pup." Gordon said forcefully sliding Dean a worried glance. "Call your dog off and let's have a chat."

"I don't think so." Sam said with a shake of his head. Gordon took a step forward and Dean growled. What the hell was Gordon's problem, it wasn't Sam he was after unless…unless he thought Sam was the shifter. The mere thought had Dean seeing red. _Bastard_.

He knew Gordon's type; he was the shoot first and ask questions later kinda ass hole. He probably wouldn't care if he hurt Sam only to find out it was really Dean he was looking for. But Dean wouldn't let that happen. He would rather die or go back to the training house than to let Sam get pulled into the cross fire.

"C'mon pup, you knew I was comin' for you. Why don't you just make things easier on everybody and come with me." Gordon said in a creepy calm voice. "Nobody has to get hurt."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Can't play dumb with me pup, I know what you are."

"I'm not anything, I swear." Sam rushed out sounding on the verge of tears. "If you don't get outta here my dog's gonna rip you in two!"

"Bobby get you that dog, so you could have a little puppy playmate mutt?" Gordon laughed humorlessly. Dean could see that Gordon was growing impatient. He was going to make his move sooner rather than later.

"I'm warning you, don't come any closer!" Sam yelled. Sam and Dean both hoped that Sam was yelling loud enough to reach Bobby's old ears to hear and alert him to the danger at hand. Sure enough, the squeak of mattress springs and the shuffle of stiff legs on wood reached Dean's ears but he knew Bobby would never make it in time. Gordon was making his move, the evil glint in his eye giving him away.

"You had your chance to do it the easy way pup." Gordon said clearly enjoying himself. "Now we do it my way."

Dean acted on pure animal instinct. He lunged for Walker's neck full of bloodlust. He was going to kill Gordon Walker plain and simple. He was going to feel Gordon's flesh tear between his teeth, taste the iron in his blood, and hear him gag on his final breath. Dean was a skinwalker after all, a monster, a natural born to kill and tonight he was going to let the monster reign free. If Gordon though he was going to get away with hurting Sam he was sorely mistaken.

But Dean never reached his mark. There was a stinging pain in his right shoulder as the bullet from Gordon's gun tore through his skin. He felt to the ground in a crumpled, naked, heap.

The pain was unimaginable. His whole body burned as if he was dropped into a vat of boiling silver. He tried to scream out but his lungs weren't cooperating. Blood spilled from the wound pooling into bright red puddles on the floor. His vision swam as voices slipped in and out of his head. He heard Bobby's gruff voice mixed with another familiar tone call out and the sound of gun fire once more. Dean thought he heard a child crying but his brain was too muddled with pain to make anything out. Blackness began to swirl around him pulling him under. _No_, he struggled, _I gotta….find Sammy. Gotta keep Sammy…safe_.

"S'mmy." Dean mumbled out before the darkness took him and the world slipped away.

~o0**0o~

John walked up Bobby's front porch feeling ragged but satisfied as hell. The hunt went off without a hitch and he found himself heading back to Bobby's sooner than he thought. Now all he could think of was seeing his boy and getting a good night's sleep. The Impala pulled up the drive and parked next to a rusted looking red El Camino. He didn't find it strange to see another unfortunate looking car in a junk yard but as John climbed the steps of the front porch the hunter side of him awoke. The air seemed to shift as he grew closer to the house. John noted that the door was slightly opened and he could hear a deep voice speaking, threatening.

"You had your chance to do it the easy way pup." The voice said followed by the chilling sound of a gun's safety being released. "Now we do it my way."

Without a second thought, John kicked in the door pulling out his own gun just as Dean jumped into the air attacking the strange man in Bobby's house. He saw out of the corner of his eye Sam falling backwards out of harm's way and Bobby entering the kitchen, his trusty shot gun in hand. The report of the stranger's gun echoed throughout the room as both he and Bobby raised their guns to fire. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Sam scream.

"Hey!" John yelled not hearing the whine of a dog morph into the cry of a child. The stranger whirled around as John sent a bullet barreling towards his knee cap. The man fell to the ground crying out. John stepped forward kicking the man's gun out of his reach and keeping his own trained on his head.

"Sam, Bobby, you good?" John asked not taking his eyes off of the stranger.

"Oh my god." Bobby whispered.

"B-Bobby what happened to Dean?" Sam asked in a small voice. John's eyes darted over to his son and nearly dropped his gun at the sight. Sam was backed up into a corner looking at the bleeding, naked, boy lying in the middle of the kitchen. _Where the fuck did he come from_?

"Sam I need you to get me the first aid kit under the sink." Bobby ordered ignoring Sam's question, his only concern at the moment was fixing Dean.

"Bobby what the hell?" John demanded his eyes fixed on the naked boy. His heart seemed to be frozen in his chest. The light brown hair, the splattering of freckles across the nose, and the uncanny resemblance to his wife, it was like John was staring at the teenage version of his dead son. No, it couldn't be his Dean that was ridiculous, his Dean was dead and he sure as hell wasn't a monster…wasn't he?

"You gotta be kidding me right?" the stranger gasped in pain and shock. "You're telling me that they didn't even know they were living with a skinwalker? That's rich Bobby, even for you."

"Shut up Walker or I swear I'll put a bullet in your brain." Bobby hissed. "Sam first aid kit, now!" Sam had yet to move, still wide eyed and trembling in the corner but jumped into action at the tone of Bobby's voice. Quickly he retrieved the red box under the sink and carefully walked over to Bobby, handing the box over to him.

"A skinwalker? Singer what the hell is he talkin' about?"

"I don't got time to explain." Bobby said ripping open a package of gauze and pressing it on the wound on Dean's shoulder. Dean's eyes remained closed but a small whimper escaped his lips at the pressure. "John, in the basement, there's a panic room. Lock Walker up in there. I need your help with Dean."

"T-that's Dean?" Sam stuttered. "Dean's a skinwalker? W-why didn't you tell us?"

"Yeah, Bobby I'd like to know why you failed to mention that you had a fucking monster living under your roof!" John yelled suddenly feeling like Bobby was more of an enemy than this Walker guy.

"He ain't no monster!" Bobby roared making the young man beside him flinch. "And if you feel right lettin' this boy die, then you and that scum bag get the hell outta my house!"

"He's not a boy Bobby." Walker said through clenched teeth. "He's just a worthless mutt."

"Dean's gonna die?" Sam asked in a small voice. Bobby swallowed. Dean did not look good at all. He was still bleeding and his face was white as a ghost. Quick, ragged breaths passed through his lips and his young face was etched in pain. "Dad, we can't let Dean die!" Sam pleaded sounding panicked. "C'mon Dad please."

John felt torn. So what if the kid died, he was a monster and monster were supposed to die. But the puppy dog look his son was giving him mixed with tears that had started to streak down his face made the tough hunter cave. He reached down all pulled Walker roughly to his feet, a pained cry ripping from his lips as he was forced to put pressure on his injured leg. Jamming his gun into the man's back John began pushing him in the direction of the basement.

"You're making a mistake John, that mutt should die and you know it." Walker hissed.

"Shut up and walk." John ordered wondering if Walker was right.

"Sam, I need you to hold this here." Bobby said holding out a square of gauze as John disappeared down the flight of stairs leading to the basement. Sam didn't seem to hear Bobby, his blue green eyes locked on Dean's pale face. "Sam!" he tried again.

"Huh?" Sam asked pulling his eyes away from Dean.

"Take this and put it on his shoulder." Bobby said again.

"Is he gonna die?" he whispered taking the gauze from Bobby with shaking finger and placing it on Dean's bad shoulder.

"Not if I can help it. Go get me that blanket off the couch will ya?"

"Yeah." He said before scampering away. He returned a few seconds later and draped the blanket over Dean's lower half. "What else can I do?"

"I need an ice pack, a knife, a lighter, and some whiskey."

"On it." he nodded disappearing once again. Heavy foot falls on the basement steps signaled John's return.

"You can put that gun away there John. Dean ain't gonna hurt you." Bobby said carefully removing the gauze to get a better look at the wound. It was a clean hit but Bobby could still see the bullet embedded in the boy's flesh. The upside was it looked like it would be easy to remove the downside however was that the skin around the injured area was red and inflamed with little silver streaks leading away from the hole. Bobby's heart sunk but wasn't all that surprised, Gordon was a hunter after all and all hunters knew that silver bullets killed skinwalkers. But that didn't stop him from cursing.

"Damn."

"What is it?" John asked keeping his distance from the boy that resembled his dead son.

"Silver poisoning, I gotta get this bullet out." Bobby mumbled more to himself than anything. "You just gonna stand there all day out are ya gonna help me out?" he snapped at John. John tensed at being called out but slowly walked over and knelt beside Dean. Sam came running back into the kitchen, his arms laden with the supplies Bobby had requested.

"Here you go." He said placing the supplies next to Dean's head.

"Thanks Sam. Now I need you to go into the living room and stay there, you got me?"

"What? No. I wanna stay here and help Dean." Sam argued.

"There's nothin' else you can do boy. Now go."

"I'm not leaving." Sam said crossing his arms.

"Sam, listen to Bobby. Now." John ordered putting his foot down.

"Fine." He said pushing himself to his feet. "Just don't kill him." John watched his son stalk into the living room and sit on the edge of the couch, just barely out of sight.

"John I need you to put the ice pack on his shoulder." Bobby said. John complied and placed the ice pack to the boy's shoulder, wincing at the sight of the kid's blood. _It's not Dean, it's not Dean, oh God please don't let it be Dean_, he said over and over in his mind. He would never forgive himself if it really was his Dean. That meant his boy; his sweet little boy had been turned into a monster. Just the thought made him sick. Forcing his mind to focus on Bobby's ministrations, John watched as he poured some whiskey on a pair of tweezers before carefully and very gently extracted the bullet from the boy's body.

"I'm gonna need you to hold him down for the next bit. It's gonna hurt like hell."

"Yeah, yeah I've got 'em." John said straddling the boy, pinning Dean's legs together with his knees and grabbing on to his wrists. He could feel Dean's pulse under his fingers, weak and thready. The boy was fading fast.

"I'm sorry kiddo." Bobby said stroking Dean's hair before dumping a liberal amount of alcohol on his wound. Dean bucked against the pain, a feral scream tearing from his lips making John's heart clench. "s'okay Dean, s'okay." Bobby said softy. "One more thing then we'll be done." he nodded over to John to hand him the lighter and knife. Swallowing hard John did what he was told and tried to fight the nausea he felt rising. Bobby held the knife up to the flame until it was glowing red. Giving John a cut nod he wasted no time lowing it Dean's injured skin.

The noise that left Dean's mouth wasn't human, it couldn't have been. So much pain and suffering was infused in the cry that it brought tears to John's eyes. The smell of burning skin impregnated the air causing John to flash back to eleven years ago. Closing his eyes he willed the memories away and focused on Dean's barely there heart beat. If he could suffer through the pain, so could John.

"Stop it!" Sam screamed suddenly, running into the room and throwing himself at Bobby. "You're hurting him! Stop it!"

"Sammy." John said jumping off of Dean to pull his son away and holding him close. "It's over Sam, we're done. Calm down."

"You were hurting him!" Sam cried hiding his face in his Dad's chest.

"I know but it's over now, ok? It's over."

Bobby stood up with a limp Dean in his arms and carried him into the living room. Placing him gently on the couch, he pulled the blanket up to his chest, mindful of his injury. He taped a fresh squared of gauze to his wound and placed two fingers on his neck, checking his pulse.

"Is he gonna live?" Sam sniffed.

"Dean's a fighter." Bobby said looking down at Dean's unconscious form. "He'll pull through." Sam pushed himself away from John and sat down on the floor next to Dean taking his limp hand into his own.

"Don't worry Dean, I won't let anyone hurt you again." he whispered. John had to get out. Bobby's living room was suddenly too small for the four of them. He ran from the house out into the cool night air doubling over as heaves wracked his body. Slipping down to his knees, John let the tears fall from his eyes. _Oh god Mary, I think that's our son_.

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**tell me what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7

**a/n: as always thank you so much for all the reviews, favorites, and follows! This was a rather emotional chapter to write given what day it is but it's done. A reminder, this is not beta'd so all mistakes are mine! Enjoy!**

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Dean woke slowly, the sense of warmth and comfort washing over him. He blinked his eyes open several times to clear away the clouds of sleep. Powder blue walls with white trim smiled back at him, early morning sunlight dancing through the windows. Gingerly, Dean pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked around the strange room. A western themed bedspread lay across his lap, matching pictures of cowboys decorated the walls, and a race car track sat innocently on the wooden floor. Toys and footballs were scattered around the room, children's clothing hanging on a desk chair. The room reeked of childhood innocence. Something tugged at the back of Dean's mind as he struggled to understand why this foreign room felt so familiar.

Carefully he slipped out of the bed, his bare feet falling softly on the cold floor. He tip toed around the room, touching everything in sight. He racked his brain with every object his hand came in contact with, desperately trying to find out why it felt like he owned all of this. Picking up a tattered football, Dean held it close to his chest. A shrill cry of a child's laughter echoed in his ears.

"_I'm gonna get ya."_ A rough voice called out, laughter evident in his warm tone.

"_No you're not Daddy!" _

Dean dropped the ball as if he had been burned, letting it fall to the floor with a thump. His chest rose and fell rapidly. _What the hell_? He thought. The voices were gone but they still rang in his head like a faded memory. But it couldn't be a memory, could it? He didn't remember his life before the training house; the trainers had spent a good time making sure they beat it out of him. _Ok, Dean time to wake up_ Dean thought squeezing his eyes tight. After a minute he cracked open eye to look around. He was still in the room.

"C'mon." he cried out. "Wake up damn it!"

"Dean?" a sweet voice responded. Dean spun around to find a beautiful woman with golden blond hair standing in the doorway. She had a warm smile that seemed to make her whole body glow in a heavenly light. The overwhelming feeling of familiarity swept over him once again as he got lost in the woman's mesmerizing eyes. "Dean, honey, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." She said walking into the room and coming to stand directly in front of him. She placed a gentle hand on his forehead as if she was checking for a fever. Dean found himself leaning into her caring touch. _What the_- Dean jerked away from her touch, his heart pounding.

"W-who are you?" he choked out. A frown passed over the woman's face and immediately Dean felt guilty for putting it there.

"You don't remember me?" She asked softly.

"N-no." Dean could feel tears sting his eyes. He didn't know why he was suddenly feeling so guilty and emotional. God he just wanted to wake up. He didn't want to be here anymore.

"Dean, honey, I'm your mother."

~o0**0o~

Sam sat on the floor watching Dean with rapt eyes. He was still having a hard time accepting that the dog he had come to know was actually a boy. Dad had called him a monster but Sam couldn't see it. In their month stay at Bobby's not once had Dean tried to hurt them, not once. Hell, Dean had saved Sam from Gordon, how did that make him a monster? So what if he turned into a dog? The more Sam thought about it, the cooler it sounded. Dean was like a superhero. He was like Superman and Krypto the super dog all rolled up into one person. Sam just didn't understand why his Dad couldn't see it that way.

He could hear Bobby and his Dad outside talking about something. His Dad sounded pained and Bobby, well Bobby sounded livid. Sam could only hear snatches of the conversations Dean's name popping up more than once. At times Sam heard his Dad mention his mother but Sam wasn't sure why they would be talking about her. Dean made a pained sound from the couch snapping Sam's attention away for the men outside. A thin sheen of sweat had broken out across Dean's forehead and his eyes were moving rapidly under his closed eyelids. Sam reached for a washcloth that was sitting on the edge of Bobby's desk and gently wiped at Dean's heated skin.

He took a quick peek at Dean's wounded shoulder and frowned. The bullet hole that Bobby had cauterized was still red and looked painful as hell but that wasn't what had Sam worried. Silver streaks ran from his wound, to his chest, and up his neck. Bobby said that they would go away since he took out the bullet but that had been almost an hour ago and Sam was beginning to have his doubts. The streaks didn't look like they were fading; in fact they looked like they were slowly growing. Sam recovered the wound and went back to wiping Dean's forehead.

"Don't worry Dean; we'll get you better again." Sam said with more confidence than he felt. "I swear."

~o0**0o~

"You wanna run that past me one more time Winchester?" Bobby asked looking down at the broken man who sat on his front porch.

"He's my son Bobby. Dean's my son." John choked out before hiding his face in his hands. There was no doubt about it. The uncanny resemblance to his wife, the age, the name, it all fit. He could feel the bile creeping back up his throat.

"How do you know?"

"He looks just like her Bobby, just like her."

"Like who?"

"Mary, my wife." John said reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. With shaking hands he handed Bobby an old family picture taken months before Mary's death. Sam was sleeping peacefully in Mary's arms, Dean standing in front of John with a big goofy smile on his face. Bobby took the photo and let out a gasp. He was younger but there was no denying it, that boy in the picture was the same boy currently sleeping on his couch.

"How'd this happen?" Bobby ground out his vision blurring with anger.

"How'd what happen?" John asked looking up at the change in Bobby's tone.

"How'd this happen to him John? How'd you let your fucking son get turned into a skinwalker?" he spat.

"I didn't Bobby, I swear I didn't know." John fought back, his guilt overwhelming. "I just left the motel to get some food. The diner was like five minutes down the street, I thought the boys would be fine. I told Dean, I _told_ him not to go outside. But when I came back the motel room door was open and Sammy was screaming his head off. I couldn't find him Bobby. Dean was just gone." John cried tears falling freely from his eyes.

"Why'd the hell did you leave a four year old and a six month old alone in the first place you idjit!" Bobby roared. John just ducked his head. He knew Bobby was right, he knew what had happened to Dean was all his fault. God knows what Dean had to go through all those years away from John, away from his brother, his family.

"I don't know…I don't know."

Bobby was livid. He fought the itch to reach down and strangle John. The hell Dean's been through could have been completely avoided if that ass hat had just taken his kids with him. If only he had, things could have been so different. Bobby took a calming breath. Getting angry wasn't going to change anything now. What's done is done, there was nothing they could do about it now but heal.

"What are you gonna do now?" He asked gruffly.

"What can I do?" John replied helplessly. "My kid's a skinwalker!"

"Yeah so what if he is? That don't change anything."

"Like hell it doesn't change anything Bobby!" John cried getting to his feet. "He's a-a…"

"You listen here Winchester." Bobby snapped cutting John off before he finished. "He is your son. You got that? He is your son and you are his father. You better get over the name callin' real fast and start treating him like what he is, your fucking son."

"I know, I know." John said shaking his head his hands reaching up to pull at his hair, something Bobby had seen Dean do on many occasions.

"I'm gonna ask you again Winchester, what are you gonna do now?" John looked up at him broken and hopeless. Bobby felt the tiniest of sympathy for the man but his obligation and love for Dean was greater. John needed to suck it up and be a man. He needed to be the father Dean has been waiting for his whole life.

"I'm gonna take care of my son." He said firmly reassuring Bobby and himself.

"Damn right you are."

~o0**0o~

"Y-you're my mom?" Dean asked breathless. The woman smiled nodding her head.

"Yes, and you are my Dean." She said in her sing song voice.

"Am I dreaming?"

"I'm afraid so sweetheart." His mother said taking a seat on his bed. His bed, Dean looked around the room realizing that this was _his_ room and that was _his_ mom. He really did have a mom; he wasn't some orphan that happened to be turned into a monster. He had a family. Dean's heart leaped with excitement. _He_ had a fucking family!

"W-where are you? I mean in the real world? Where can I find you?" He asked full of joy. The smile fell off of his mother's beautiful face, pain taking over her warm eyes. "What? What's wrong?"

"Dean you need to wake up son." She said suddenly with urgency.

"I will just tell me where you are so I can find you." Dean pleaded coming to sit next to her. "I wanna be with you; I wanna be with my family."

"You will be sweetheart. They're waiting for you; you just need to wake up."

"What do you mean they're waiting for me?" Dean asked. Then it hit him. "John and Sam? T-they're my family?"

His Mom nodded, tears filling her eyes. Realization fell on Dean like a ton of bricks. John told him that his wife was dead and if John was his father then that meant that his mother….

"No." Dean cried jumping to his feet. "No, John told me that his wife died! You're not dead!"

"This is a dream sweetheart, remember?"

"No!" he screamed. "I don't believe you!"

"I know this is hard for you Dean-"

"You don't know shit! You don't know the hell, the torture I've gone through! You don't know anything! You are not dead! You're alive and I'm gonna find you and we are goin' to be together! I'm goin' to have a family! I deserve to have a family! I deserve to be loved!"

His mother stood from her spot on the bed and wrapped her arms around Dean's shaking frame. It wasn't fair. She had to be lying. She had to be alive, for him. Why couldn't he have a family? Why couldn't he be loved? Why did it have to be him? Why did he have to be the one to get royally fucked over? Why did he have to be the monster? Why couldn't he have his mother?

"You are loved baby." His mother cooed in his ear as she stroked the back of his head. "I love you so, so much Dean. And I wish I could be there for you. I wish I could be with your father and Sammy. I wish I could be with my family but I can't. You can Dean. You can be with them; you can still have a family. But for that you need to wake up, you need to remember."

"Remember what?" dean sniffed into her chest.

"You need to remember me sweetheart, your life before the training house."

"But I don't-"

"You do." she said taking a step back and holding him out at an arm's length. "Deep down you remember everything."

"H-how do I do that? How do I remember?"

"I love you so much Dean." His mother said her image starting to look fuzzy and dim as if she was slowly fading away. "And I'm so proud of you sweetheart."

"Wait Mom!" Don't go I need you!" Dean cried trying to hold onto her.

"Wake up Dean and remember." She said with a wink kissing him on the forehead before disappearing. Dean felt an empty pit in his stomach as he stood in his now empty room. He wanted to scream, to cry, to hit someone, to hurt something. He wanted his mom back. Suddenly a crippling pain had Dean falling to his knees. He gasped out clutching his head as images flashed before his eyes.

Fire. There was fire everywhere. It seared his skin; smoke filled his nostrils making him choke. He heard a baby crying among the popping of the heat.

He saw himself walking down a hallway. He felt fear pounding through his veins. He heard himself call out for his mommy and daddy. He ran to the room were flames were licking the ceiling.

Then John was in front of him, shoving a bundle of blankets into his arms.

"_Take your brother outside as fast as you can! Don't look back! Now Dean! Go!"_

He was running, down the stairs, out the front door, his little feet carrying him to the safety of the grass. He looked down at the baby in his arms and felt a surge of love.

"_It's ok Sammy." _He heard himself say as he looked up to the burning house. Then it was gone, just like that. Dean opened his eyes breathing heavily, sweat drenching his shirt. He was about stand up when the pain hit him again.

"_I'll be back in a couple of minutes Dean._" He heard John say as he pulled on a beat up leather jacket. _"Watch out for Sammy and don't go outside ok?"_

"_Ok Daddy." _

"_Good boy."_

He watched John drive away before time seemed to speed up and he found himself walking towards a back dog sitting in the empty parking lot. Dean tried to stop himself, screaming out, pleading for his four year old self to turn around and go back inside but the past couldn't be changed. He felt himself being thrown into the back of a van, and then everything went black.

~o0**0o~

Sam snapped awake from his stupor at the sound of Dean moaning. Looking up with sleepy eyes he watched as Dean's body began to twist, his moans turning into whimpers.

"Dean?" Sam asked with trepidation. He edged closer until his face was directly over Dean's. Dean didn't respond. "Dean?" Sam tried again, asking louder. There was still no response. Then Dean started convulsing, his muscles contracting and relaxing rapidly. Sam jumped back in fear.

"DAD!" Sam screamed backing away from the couch. "BOBBY! HELP!"

The screen door flew open as John and Bobby ran into the house.

"What's wrong Sam?" his Dad asked. Sam just pointed to Dean's convulsing form.

"Shit." Bobby growled. He motioned John to grab Dean's feet to move him to the floor so he wouldn't fall off the couch. "Sam, grab some pillows. Place them 'round him and watch out for his arms." Sam nodded timidly and grabbed as many pillows as he could and began placing them around Dean's shaking form. Minutes ticked by as Dean continued to convulse, Bobby and the Winchester's standing nearby watching helplessly. When Dean's limbs finally came to a stop, Bobby stooped down and took in the web work of silver stretching up Dean's neck, turning his skin a shade of blue grey.

"What is it Bobby." John asked wide eyed crouching down next to his eldest son.

"Silver poisoning."

"I thought you had to be exposed to massive amounts of silver to get that." John breathed, fear clenching his heart.

"You do, but Dean here ain't exactly what you'd call a normal case."

"What's happening?" Sam cried. "Bobby what's happening? Why isn't Dean a normal case?"

"The silver from the bullet, it poisoned him." John explained shortly looking up to his youngest.

"But Bobby got the bullet out; he said that stuff on his neck would just go away."

"It's the skinwalker in him, it's reacting to the silver faster than and human would."

"What?" Sam asked confused.

"Skinwalkers react to silver right?" Bobby asked, breaking it down for Sam.

"Yeah."

"Well, Dean was shot with a silver bullet. The silver musta' leached off the bullet and into his bloodstream. Now it's poisoning him."

"There's gotta be somethin' we can do." John asked placing a hand on Dean's spiky hair. He couldn't lose his son, not now, not after he found him again.

"I've gotta friend in town, she runs the local clinic. She should have some chelation on hand. I'll give her a call. John, you best be getting' that boy in the car."

"What's chelation?" Sam started but was cut off by the look his father gave him.

"You think she'll be up at this hour?"

"You better hope so."

"Why?" Sam asked fearing the worst.

"Because if we don't get that silver outta Dean, he's gonna die."

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	8. Chapter 8

**a/n: A huge thank you to all those who have reviewed, favorited, and followed! This chapter is not beta'd so all mistakes are my own! Enjoy!**

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Madeline Bates was not one to take kindly to any interruptions of her beauty sleep. So when her phone started ringing for what seemed like the twentieth time that night, she stormed out of bed ready to give the caller a piece of her mind.

"What?" she snapped.

"Madeline, its Bobby, I'm cashing in that favor you own me." Bobby Singer's voice crackled over the speaker.

"It's like three in the morning Bobby." Madeline complained. "Can it wait till the morning?"

"I wouldn't be callin' you if it could." He growled.

"Well if it's that serious, maybe you should take it to the hospital." she suggested trying to worm her way out of what she was sure was going to become a big messy fiasco.

"Not this Maddie." Bobby said his voice pulling tight. "I can't go to the hospital with this."

Madeline felt the color drain from her face.

"Is it-its supernatural right? That stuff you're into?"

"You see my problem then."

"I don't know Bobby." Madeline said biting her lip. Sure Bobby saved her life by getting rid of a particularly nasty poltergeist from her home, but she was still a little skeptic about the whole supernatural world. She wasn't too sure she wanted something of that nature in her clinic much less her life. Her poltergeist was gone; she didn't need another spook in her life.

"Maddie, I'm begging you, please." Bobby pleaded. It was the desperation in his voice that won her over in the end. He sounded like he was about to lose the single most important thing in his life. The pain that laced his words was just too hard for her ignore.

"Alright, fine." She sighed. "What are we lookin' at?"

"Silver poisoning, heavy silver poisoning. You got any chelation?"

"Yeah, you know I do. How heavy are we talkin' here?"

"Maddie, it's bad. It's really bad." Bobby's voice whispered. Somewhere in the background, Madeline heard an engine rev up and the slam of a screen door.

"_Bobby, he's ready. Your doc friend gonna help us out or what?"_ a gruff voice asked. Bobby must have nodded because a few seconds later Madeline heard the door slam again.

"Get here as fast as you can Singer, I'll have the back door open and waiting." Madeline said as a feeling of foreboding washed over her. The desperation and urgency in Bobby's voice started to make her feel that whatever was suffering from the poisoning held Bobby's sanity in its hand.

~o0**0o~

John drove as if the devil himself was chasing him down. He pushed his baby to move faster with every mile. His worried eyes were fixed on the backseat more than they were on the road. Dean was stretched out in the back with his head resting on Sam's lap. He hadn't woken up after his seizure. Instead, he remained in the clutches of darkness, completely unaware to the chaos around him.

His face was deadly pale and heat rolled off of him in waves as the fever ravaged his body. The sliver lines had moved further up his neck, stretching over his jaw and up his cheek. He was so still, the only sign of life being the quick and ragged breaths that passed through his cracked lips. Sam's hand ran through Dean's short hair, offering as much comfort as he could. Fat tears ran down his baby boy's face as he tried to stay strong for Dean.

"How much further Bobby?" John asked his eyes flicking back to the road. They were coming up on the town. Street lamps lit the empty roads with an eerie orange glow. Store fronts were dark as their owners slept soundly above without a care to the world.

"Not much further," Bobby said. "Take the next right up here. The clinic is gonna be on the left."

John sped through the town, running all the red lights until the Impala came to a screeching halt behind a simple looking brick building. The back door to the clinic opened just as John threw open Sam's door, grabbing for Dean. Bobby went ahead, explaining the situation to a short, curly headed Doctor with piercing eyes. Gathering Dean up in his arms, he all but ran into the florescent warmth of the clinic. Sam followed closely behind not wanting to be separated from Dean or his father.

"Bring him in here." the doctor ordered leading the men into an exam room. She motioned for John to lay Dean down on the bed and began prepping an IV bag. Carefully as he could John laid Dean down flashing back to when he use to tuck his little boy in at night, before all the pain and suffering. The memory brought tears to his eyes which he quickly wiped away. This was no time for self pity.

"Are you going to fix him?" Sam asked his voice sounding like a scared five year.

"I hope so." The doctor said as she flicked a syringe with her finger. "I'm Doctor Madeline. I know Bobby but you three on the other hand, not so much."

"John." John said roughly not taking his eyes away from Dean's still form. "Sammy and Dean are my boys."

"And I take it Dean here is mister silver?" she asked while she pulled a small catheter out of a package. Grabbing an alcohol wipe, she cleaned a spot on Dean's hand before applying a tourniquet. "You mind telling me how he was exposed to so much silver?"

"He got shot." Sam said bluntly his father's words going unnoticed.

"One bullet wouldn't cause this much damage." Madeline said exasperated looking up to John and Bobby for an answer. "There has to be something else this kid got into. Right?"

"I told you Maddie, it's a special case." Bobby explained. Madeline just nodded and brought the catheter down to Dean's skin.

"You're going to feel a big pinch Dean so be ready." She said more out of habit than comfort knowing full well that her patient couldn't hear her. Within seconds, Madeline had Dean hooked up to the IV line, pumping him full of the cure. "Sam, do mind sitting here with Dean while I talk to your Dad and Bobby?" she asked pulling up a chair for Sam to sit in. He shook his head and dutifully took a seat, his hand wrapping around Dean's. Madeline, John, and Bobby filed out of the exam room one by one until they were in the safety of the hallway.

"Is something wrong?" John asked, strung out. Now that her patient was taken care of she got a good long look at Bobby's friend. He was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome. But the lines of worry etched into his face and the pain in his eyes seemed to make him look years older than he really was. Bobby's body mirrored John's pain almost to a tee. Whoever or rather whatever this Dean kid was, it was clear that he meant the world to these men.

But John's good looks and Bobby's worry didn't explain the predicament that she currently found herself in. Calling Dean a special case was an understatement. There was no way in hell that one silver bullet could have caused the amount of damage Dean's body was undertaking. The kid would have had to ingested gallons of silver to reach the level of toxicity he was showing. There was something off with the boy and she wanted to know right the hell now.

"Hell yes there is something wrong!" Madeline hissed. "I know I owe you one Bobby but I wasn't expecting this. First of all, what the hell is that kid and why the hell is his body acting that way to the silver?"

"He's a skinwalker." Bobby said as if it was an everyday occurrence.

"A what?"

"A skinwalker; means he can turn into a dog." He explained in the most simplest of terms. "And that type of critter don't get along that well with silver. Just touchin' it can irritate his skin."

"Oh right, how could I not know that?" Madeline cried with a roll of her eyes. This was too weird. A boy that could turn into a dog? A dog that was allergic to silver none the less. Next Bobby would be telling her that Bigfoot was real. "This is ridiculous; I'm treating a dog boy."

"Hey," John growled taking a threatening step forward. The pain in his eyes quickly vanished, replaced by a deadly anger. A deadly anger directed at her. "That's my son."

Madeline took a step back from the man, frightened.

"John, take it easy." Bobby warned placing an arm across John's chest to hold him back.

"I'm sorry." Madeline mumbled. "It's just, I'm not all that use to the whole supernatural world, it's a little hard for me to grasp."

John grunted, accepting her apology but the anger never left his eyes.

"So what's the prognosis doc? He gonna live?" Bobby asked trying to diffuse the sudden tension.

"I don't know Bobby." She said crossing her arms.

"What do you mean you don't know? I thought that stuff you gave him was going to cure him?" John questioned his heart picking up speed.

"It is, but his body is weak. Chelation is a harsh therapy and that kid is already on the brink of death. It's not going to be easy for him."

"W-what's goin' to happen to him?"

But before Madeline could answer John, Sam's cry for help cut him off. Madeline ran ahead the men to get to her patient first. Dean lay shaking on the exam bed. Beads of sweat had broken out across his forehead and his eyes moved rapidly under his closed eyelids. His mouth opened and closed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. Madeline reached for a trashcan and shoved it under Dean's chin just in time.

"What's happening?" John yelled over Dean's retching.

"The chelation is kicking in." Madeline explained placing a comforting hand on Dean's neck as he continued to be sick. "John come over here and hold him up."

John obeyed and stood by Dean's side, holding him up into a sitting position.

"Is it supposed to make him sick?" Sam asked quietly. He had moved away from Dean when the adults entered the room. Now he stood in the corner wide eyes and trembling.

"It's ok Sam." Madeline tried to smile as Dean's stomach revolted again. "It's helping him get the silver out of his system. See look." She said pointing to Dean's neck. Sam stepped forward his jaw dropping in amazement. Already the web work of silver on his face had started to recede leaving no trace of being there in the first place.

"How much longer is he going to be doin' this?" Bobby asked his nose crinkling at the smell.

"Until all the silver is gone from his body I'm afraid."

"So, I guess we should make ourselves comfortable huh?"

The next hour passed in a vomit induced haze. Madeline started a bag of Saline to replenish the fluids Dean was losing while John sat on the exam bed with Dean against his chest. Bobby busied himself with whipping Dean's brow, Sam sleeping fitfully curled up on a chair. Throughout the chelation therapy Dean remained unaware of the torture his body was undergoing. Occasionally his eyes would flutter open, a soft moan escaping from his dry lips but they would quickly slip shut from sheer exhaustion.

Once Dean's nausea began to abate and the silver was all but gone, Madeline excused herself in desperate need for some caffeine. Bobby followed not long after leaving the three Winchesters alone in the exam room. John wiped at his weary eyes as his eldest son's head rested on his chest just like he used to do many years ago. He glanced over to where Sam slept, having quieted down not long after Dean's stomach eased up.

"You know," John said softly to Dean. "You were so excited when Mary and I told you that you were going to have a little brother. We were so worried you get mad. Most kids do you know. They don't like the idea of having to share but not you Dean. You couldn't wait for Sammy to get here." he chuckled at the memory. "You use to ask Mary everyday when the baby was coming. I told her that we should have waited until she started showing more before telling you. You drove her up the wall but she could never get mad at you. You had her wrapped around your little finger. Hell, you had me wrapped around that finger too.

The day we left for the hospital, the day Sammy came, you were so quite. It was weird. For nine months you wouldn't shut up about your new baby brother but the day he came you didn't say a word. After delivery, I took you to see Mary and Sammy and you were shaking so bad that I had to carry you into the delivery room. I remember the first time you held him. You had this big goofy smile on your face and I swear I've never seen anyone so happy. I've never seen Mary so happy.

She loved you so much Dean. I loved her so much. The night I lost her, I felt like I lost everything. I forgot that I had two boys to look after. I should have looked out for you Dean. I should have protected you. I shouldn't have left you alone. This is all my fault." John whispered harshly, choking on a sob as fresh tears fell from his face. "I'm so sorry son."

"Y-you did this too him?" Sam's voice suddenly accused. John's head snapped over to where Sam sat in the chair unaware that his youngest had woken up to hear his confession.

"Sammy let me explain." John said getting to his feet, letting Dean down gently.

"Stay away from me." Sam yelled taking a step back.

"Sammy please-" John pleaded. But Sam was already on his feet running out the door. John chased after him catching him just before he made it outside. "Sam, listen to me!"

"How could you?" Sam cried. "You turned him into a monster!"

"No Sam." John explained. "Please let me explain-"

"You don't have to explain! I heard what you said Dad! You said that Dean is my brother and that's it's your fault that he's a monster!"

"You really think he's a monster Sammy?" John shot back his anger taking over making him see red. "I thought he was your friend?"

"He is-"

"Well you got a funny way for showin' it callin' him a monster!"

"You're a bastard!" Sam spat.

"What the hell is goin' on?" Bobby asked walking up to the two Winchesters.

"Did you know Bobby?" Sam snapped turning his hateful glare on the older man.

"Know what?"

"That this is all Dad's fault? That Dean's a skinwalker because of him?"

"Yeah I did." Bobby said calmly. He knew Sam was going to find out sooner or later and when he did, shit was going to hit the fan. The only way to deal with it was to take it one step at a time and not lose his cool. "I also know that your Daddy feels like shit because of it. You don't need to be addin' to his guilt."

"Dean was his son Bobby! He was my brother! How can you excuse what he did?"

"He still is my son!" John growled. "And he's still your brother! I know I fucked up Sam. I know. You don't know how bad I want to go back and do things over but I can't. But I do know that Dean's back. We found him and we can be a family again."

"How can we possible be a family Dad?" Sam cried shaking his head. "He's a skinwalker. I know how much you hate them; I know how much you want to kill them. What's going to stop you from killing Dean?"

John was floored. Did Sam really think he would hurt Dean? _Well you were going to kill him before_, his inner voice sneered. _Yeah but that was before I knew he was my son_ he argued back. _But you've still thought about it Johnny boy, haven't you?_ John growled. _No, I'm not goin' to hurt my son. I've already done enough_.

"I won't. He's my son. I'll never hurt him again." John said with conviction. "Please Sammy believe me, I'm never going to hurt him again."

"You still should have told me." Sam said easing off of his father, letting the sincerity in John's voice sink in.

"You're right I should have and for that I'm sorry. Now are we good?" Sam seemed to ponder John's question for a while, biting his lip. Finally he nodded his head, his cheeks turning bright red.

"I hate to break up this moment y'all are having." Madeline said appearing next to Bobby, pale faced and shaking, Dean's soiled clothes balled up in her fists. "But we have a problem."

"What is it?" John breathed, fear clenching at his heart.

"Dean's gone."

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**Dean's POV is coming up next but until then, tell me what you think!**


	9. Chapter 9

**a/n: Thank you so, so much for all the reviews, favorites, and follows! I don't think I can thank y'all enough, really. As usual, this is not beta'd so all mistakes are my own. Hope you enjoy!**

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Awareness came back to Dean in droves. Odd and familiar sensations crept over his overtaxed body in waves; the squishy feel of plastic stuck to his sweat slicked skin, the pinch of a needle taped to his hand, the over powering smell of vomit. He cracked open his heavy eyes, flinching from the harshness of the florescent lighting above. Around him were the telltale signs of an exam room. Posters of the human body were plastered on the walls, there were little reminders to wash your hands pinned to the door, and a table top to his left was cluttered with medical supplies. Glancing down he saw the clear tubing of an IV line snaking up his arm to attach to an IV pole. Wracking his brain, Dean struggled to remember how he ended up here.

Memories shot across his vision like lightening; Gordon pointing a gun at Sam, white hot pain as a bullet tore into his shoulder, the sweet comfort of his mother's arms, the sick realization of who his family was, the mind numbing pain of his muscles contracting, the burn of acid tearing at his throat. They crashed down on him sending wave after wave of dizzying nausea rolling over him. Breathing harshly through his nose, Dean focused on calming himself down. Once he was sure his stomach wasn't going to rebel he carefully pushed his abused body into a sitting position.

There were a few things that Dean was certain of. He had been shot, Gordon was a dead man, and the Winchester's were his family. The thought kept rolling around in his head; the Winchester's were his family. He actually had a family. The excitement he felt gave him renewed strength to slide off of the exam bed and plant his feet flat on the cold floor. Steadying himself, Dean took a cautious step towards the door, willing his healing abilities to move faster. He had to find John and Sam. He had to tell them. Just as he reached out to grasp the door handle, he froze.

For the past month both John and Sam believed he was dog, now here he was standing two legged and completely human. How was he going to explain _that_ to them? In fact how did he know for sure that John and Sam haven't already taken off? There still was a chunk of memory missing from when he was shot to how he got here. He didn't even know if John was back from his hunt yet. Sam could have called him and they could have run. Or maybe Bobby had run with Dean, hiding from John. Hell, John could be hunting him for all he knew. Dean began to pant as a crippling fear took hold of him. How could he forget who he was? He was a monster, John was a hunter. Sam was a hunter in training. His family killed things like him, how could they ever accept him?

And then there was Sam. He was his real life brother and Dean cared for the kid more than he cared about himself. Hell, that's what got him in the mess in the first place, he was protecting Sam. Sam would be more understanding wouldn't he? He'd convince John not to kill him, right? The very idea of Sam hating him made Dean's stomach twist.

Sam's angered filled voice pulled Dean out of his fear induced panic. He sounded far off, coming from the other side of the building if Dean had to guess, but there none the less. Well at least Sammy had stuck around. That was good right? If Sam was still here that meant he didn't hate him. Dean bit his lip, listening on.

"_How can we possible be a family Dad? He's a skinwalker. I know how much you hate them; I know how much you want to kill them. What's going to stop you from killing Dean?"_

Dean backed away from the door, dazed. Sam knew. He knew who he really was, he knew that they were brothers, and he hated him. He called him a monster. And John, John was here and was going to kill him. His very own father was going to kill him. Dean shifted without even thinking about it. He had to get out of there. He had to run as fast and as far away as he could. Slipping out of the exam room unnoticed, he trotted to the front of the building and made his way into the night.

He shouldn't have expected anything less. He knew who he was and he knew who John was. But that fact didn't make it hurt less. John was his father, his father that wanted him dead. His father didn't want a monster for a son. No one ever wanted a monster.

White hot rage suddenly bubbled up deep within his chest. This was the training houses fault. They did this to him; they made him into a monster. They took away his family. He had to make them pay. Dean had to make some good come from this horrible mess he called his life. He was going to set things right, even if it was the last thing he'd ever do. He had to stop them. Making up his mind, Dean took off into a run heading in the direction of Bobby's house. If he was going to put an end to the training house there was someone he needed to talk to first.

~o0**0o~

"What do you mean gone?" John rumbled taking off down the hallway and bursting into the exam room. Sure enough, just like the doctor said, the room was empty. No sight of Dean anywhere. John scrubbed a weathered hand over his face in frustration. This couldn't be happening. Not again.

"I mean gone, you know like vanished." Madeline said with a wave of her hands. "Like here one second gone the next."

"H-how could he be gone?" John asked stupidly looking around the empty room. Unadulterated panic flooded through John's veins. It was starting over, just like before. One second Dean was right there, the next he had slipped right through his fingers.

"Dad, we have to find him." Sam pleaded his face pale. "He's still hurt something bad can happen to him."

"I know kiddo, I know." John tried to reassure Sam. "Bobby, you know him better than anyone here. Where would Dean go?"

"That kid ain't left the junk yard in years." Bobby grumbled clearly shaken. "He don't have anywhere else to go."

"Why would he run?" Madeline asked. An icy chill gripped John's heart as he turned wide eyed to Bobby.

"Y-you don't think." He swallowed. "You don't think he overheard do you?"

"Oh my god." Sam breathed his stomach clenching. "Oh my god, this is my fault."

"No, no Sammy, listen to me." John said bending down on one knee in front of his youngest. Sam was on the verge of hyperventilating, his breaths coming in quick, short gasps. Tears leaked from his eyes, his bottom lip trembling. "This is not your fault. You hear me; it is not your fault."

Sam didn't respond. Why did he say something like that? He didn't mean it. Dean wasn't a monster, he was his brother. Even before he knew the dog beside him was actually a boy, Sam cared about him. He understood Sam; he was always there for him. How could Sam even think to call him a monster? If anything, Sam was the monster, not Dean. But that's what Dean heard and now he was gone and it was all his fault.

"Sam!" John shouted making Sam's tear filled eyes snap to his father's face. "Stop it!"

"We have to find him." Sam whispered. John nodded, holding Sam's face in his hands.

"He couldn't have gone far could he? Maybe he's still in town?"

"Nah, that boy's fast on two legs, even faster on four." Bobby sighed. "He's probably half way back to the house by now."

"Well let's go get him then." John said getting to his feet. Bobby suddenly paled, taking the trucker hat off of his head and twisting in his hands.

"Balls."

"What?" John asked. "What Bobby?"

"He ain't gonna be there."

"How do you know?" Sam exhaled.

"He's a Winchester, that's how I know. Hell bent on revenge and akin to make stupid ass decisions."

"Aw hell." John cried, hiding his head in his hands.

"Am I missing something here?" Madeline piped up having been sidelined from the conversation. Sam nodded in agreement, just as lost as the doctor.

"You don't think he would, do you Bobby?" John pleaded.

"He's your son ain't he? Wouldn't you do the same?"

"Hell yes I would."

"Then there's a safe bet Dean would too."

"What are you talking about?" Madeline asked more forcefully this time. "What is he going to do?"

"Sammy get in the car, we gotta go now." John said before taking off out of the exam room. Sam didn't need to be told twice. He quickly followed his father out, a million questions still running around in his mind.

"Bobby, what the hell?"

"Sorry, Maddie. Ain't got time to explain." Bobby said shoving his hat back on his head. "Thanks for the help, I owe you one." He said right before disappearing out of the back door. Madeline threw her hands up in the air, exasperated.

"Typical." She grumbled. Madeline flicked the lights off in the exam room just as the sound of the Impala's engine cut through the night air.

~o0**0o~

Dean made it back to Bobby's junk yard in record time. Now that whatever was in his system was gone, his skinwalker healing abilities had kicked in at full force giving him much needed energy to race home. It wouldn't be too much longer before Bobby and John would come to realize that he had taken off. Once they found out they would be hot on his heels. Dean needed to make sure he was long gone before that happened. Slipping into the darkened house, Dean pulled on some sweatpants and began riffling though some of Bobby's weapons. He settled on a particularly nasty looking knife with a wicked blade. He walked down the stairs leading to the basement, mental preparing himself for what he was about to do.

_You can do it. You're badass_. He encouraged himself_. You're gonna leave him squealing like a little baby_. But as he drew closer to the pure iron door that led into the panic room, Dean felt his resolve waver. _No, you can do this; lives depend on it so suck it up_. Taking a deep breath, Dean unlocked the heavy door and stepped inside.

Gordon sat, tethered to a chair in the center of the room, his chin resting on his chest. A crooked smile crossed his face as Dean entered his eyes still down cast.

"Must be getting rusty if you're still around." He sighed.

"S'not my fault you're a piss poor shot." Dean fired back.

"Why don't you untie me and I'll show you how piss poor I really am." Gordon sneered, lifting his head, locking venom filled eyes on Dean. Dean suppressed a shiver at the resoluteness in his voice but pressed forward.

"Nah I think I'll leave you tied up."

"Kinky."

"Oh hey now Gordy, I don't swing that way." Dean said raising his hands innocently. "I mean, I know I'm a hot piece of ass but that's robbin' the cradle don't you think?"

"You sure do think you're funny don't you mutt." Gordon chuckled watching Dean with predator eyes.

"I ain't a mutt." Dean snarled gripping the hilt of the knife tightly in his hands.

"Sure you are, just a stupid little dog boy with no family. Nothin' but a mutt."

"Shut up." Dean yelled taking a step closer to Gordon.

"What are you gonna do about it? Kill me?"

"You keep it up I just might." Dean growled low and deadly. "Tell me where the training house is."

"Now why in the hell would I tell you that?"

"Because I asked nicely." Dean said inching closer.

"Didn't sound very nice to me."

"Well I guess I'll just have to ask again." Dean smiled before he charged at Gordon, pressing the edge of Bobby's knife to his neck. Red blurred his vision and his heart thrashed madly against his chest. His animal instincts took over expelling and fears or insecurities Dean might have had in the beginning. "Where's the training house bitch?"

"What'cha gonna do?" Gordon hissed. "Barge up in there and kill 'em all? Or maybe you're just dying to get back to your monster buddies, go out and kill some innocent people."

"I'm not a murderer you sick son of a bitch. I don't try and shoot innocent kids!" Dean spat back his face just inches from Gordon's. "You're the monster, you almost killed my brother!"

"Collateral damage." He sneered.

"I'm gonna rip out your throat."

"Go right ahead there mutt." Gordon laughed. "You'll only be proving my point."

"Stop. Calling. Me. Mutt!" Dean yelled putting enough pressure on the blade to draw blood. "Tell me!"

"You can keep on asking all you want. I'm not tellin' you nothing!" Dean growled bearing his teeth. This was taking too long. John and Bobby would be here soon. Dean needed to speed this interrogation along. It was clear that Gordon knew Dean wouldn't kill him but there were other ways to threaten a hunter into giving you what you want.

"You know what I can do Gordy." Dean challenged taking a step back and removing the knife from Gordon's neck. "I could always bite you. Make you into one of us. Turn you into a monster. I could show you a whole new world."

Dean's new threat seemed to catch Gordon's attention. The predatory look leeched from his eyes, fear taking its place.

"You're bluffing." He spat.

"Maybe I am." Dean said with a shrug. "Maybe I'm not. Either way, it's gonna hurt like hell. So unless you don't want to live life on the furry side I suggest you start talkin' or I start bitin'."

"C'mon Dean," Gordon said a fine sheen of sweat coating his brow. "You wouldn't do that. You don't have it in you."

"Funny, you think I can kill but you don't think I won't change you." Dean snorted letting the knife fall to the floor with a clatter. "I guess we'll just have to put that to a test." He shifted, jumping up on Gordon, his jaws open wide, ready to bite into the soft flesh of his neck.

"Wait," Gordon shouted holding deadly still. "Wait, wait, wait. I'll tell you, ok. I'll tell you." Dean retracted his muzzle but kept his paws latched onto Gordon's shoulders. "There's a bar, Fresh Horses Saloon, in Harrisburg. The guy who runs the house, he works there. You'll find him there." Dean yipped, taking a play nip at the air, making Gordon flinch. Dean smirked before he turned around and trotted out of the panic room. Using his muzzle he shut the solid door, shifting back into his human form once it was shut.

"Thank you for your cooperation." Dean called as he pulled on another pair of sweats. With a new sense of purpose Dean ran up the stairs, grabbed a shirt, and ran out into the junk yard. He spotted Gordon's El Camino and smiled. "Let's go for a spin sweetheart." He cooed slipping into the front seat. "We got work to do."

~o0**0o~

The Fresh Horses Saloon was a grimy little hole in the wall bar. Dean sat across the street watching the dark windows. It was still early in the morning, too early for any normal person to be awake. There wouldn't be anyone around for awhile. Dean saw this as an opportunity. Slipping out of the car, Dean popped open the trunk of the El Camino his eyes widening with shock. There was every type of weapon imaginable in Gordon's trunk. Knifes, machetes, shotguns, pistols, holy water, and silver covered every square inch of the hub. It was mesmerizing. Dean grabbed a short but deadly silver knife and tucked it into the back of his jeans, making sure no part of the silver touched his skin.

He jogged across the street and began picking the lock on the front door. After a few short seconds, the tumblers clicked and Dean slipped inside. The bar smelled like stale beer and sweat men. Dean bit back a gag as he made his way further inside. Ducking behind the bar Dean spotted a brown folder with yellowed papers sticking out. Figuring that the folder would be a good place to start, he began riffling through the papers. There were addresses, local ones, next to numbers; some were crossed out others, starred. He was so absorbed in his findings that he didn't hear the soft creek of the floorboards or the click of a gun cocking. It wasn't until Dean felt the cold muzzle of a gun being pressed to the back of his neck did he realize that he had been caught. Dean froze, fear gripping his heart.

"Don't move mutt or I'll put a pretty little silver bullet in that head of yours."

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**tell me what you think!**


	10. Chapter 10

**a/n: I'm so sorry for for the wait! The end of the semester is coming up and I've been swamped with studying for last minute tests and finals. I don't know when I'll be update next but hopefully it won't be too long. Thanks again for all the support, I love you guys and your enthusiasm for this story! It means the world to me! A little reminder, all mistakes are mine! Hope you enjoy!**

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This couldn't be happening. No way in _hell _was this happening. He knew his conscience wasn't as squeaky clean as some, but it wasn't so damned that he deserved to live though this twice. He wouldn't let it happen. John Winchester would fight tooth and nail. He would walk into hell itself and fight Lucifer to the death before he let this happen again. Nothing was going to stop him, not hell, not high water, nothing. He would get his son back. He would save Dean.

He peeled into Bobby's junk yard, the Impala's tires squealing at the sharp turn. Adrenaline pumped through his system like wild fire. He ignored Sam's startled gasp as the car rocked from the shift in momentum, he only had one thing on his mind, finding Dean. Throwing open the car door, he took off into the darkened house, Bobby and Sam not too far behind him.

"Dean!" he yelled into the empty house. "Dean!" Bobby and Sam joined in searching high and wide for any sign of the wayward son.

"You won't find your mutt here!" A voice yelled up from the basement. "He's long gone by now!"

_Gordon_. John's vision flashed red as he tore down the stairs to the panic room.

"John, wait!" Bobby called after him but his warning fell on deaf ears. _Idjit_, Bobby cursed. "Sam, you stay here, don't want you down there."

"But Bobby-" Sam started to protest.

"No Sam." Bobby said cutting him off. "You stay up here, you hear me? Watch some t.v., read somthin' I don't care but do not go down stairs." Sam looked dejected but nodded none the less. Bobby clapped him on the shoulder giving him a sad smile. He knew this had to be hell on the Winchesters. It was hell on him too. After all, he was the one who saved Dean in the first place. He was the one that raised that smart ass, sheltered him, fed him, took care of him; hell loved him for the past six years. That kid was everything to Bobby. John wasn't the only one losing a kid if they didn't find Dean. He gave Sam's shoulder a squeeze before storming off after John.

He wasn't surprised to see John standing over Gordon a knife in one hand, a gun in another. He was however, surprised to see a wicked grin playing across Gordon's sweaty face.

"Where is he?!" John bellowed.

"It's funny; people keep asking me where things are today." Gordon snorted. "And you know, the crazy thing is, I haven't been offered anything in return."

"How 'bout I don't run this knife through you?" John spat. "How's that for somethin' in return?"

"Tempting but not nearly enough."

"You ain't in the position to be makin' deals Walker." Bobby said coming to stand by John. A small trail of blood ran down Gordon's dark skin opposite from where John was holding his knife. Bobby's heart sank at the thought of Dean standing where John was now, threatening Gordon just like his father

"I think I am." Gordon retorted. "You need me to find that pup of yours and unless I get somethin' in return, my lips are sealed and your mutt is as good as dead."

"I'm gonna kill you." John hissed pressing down harder on the knife in his hand, giving Gordon a matching wound.

"What do ya want Gordon?" Bobby asked pulling John back before he could do any real damage. John shot him a look of disbelief. They were on a clock; Dean's life was at stake here. They didn't have time to play Gordon's games. John knew how to get people to talk; a little cut here, a little slice there. When he was done working them over, they'd be signing up to spill their guts. Gordon was just trying to stall them, put off the inevitable. And there was Bobby, falling for his tricks.

"Bobby-" John warned trying to pull out of Bobby's strong grasp.

"We don't got time to water board him John." Bobby argued whispering low into John's ear. "We gotta find Dean now and if that means we have to make a deal with this bastard we might as well bite the bullet."

"He shot my boy!" John shot back still fighting Bobby's grip. "He almost shot Sam! I'm not letting him go!"

"We don't got another choice John." Bobby said sadly his eye just barely twitching. John fell still, no longer struggling. He nodded his head somberly and took a step back, leaning up against the panic room wall for support. He could feel the adrenaline start to leave his body, weariness crashing over him. John rubbed his eyes forcing himself to stay focused. He'll sleep when Dean is safe.

"I always knew you were the smart one Bobby. Though I'm still not sure why you kept that dumb ass mutt around and didn't kill him when you had the chance."

"Why don't you tell me what you want and we can ponder the 'what if's' later?" Bobby growled. "Tell me what you want."

"I want outta here and I want a promise that Johnny boy won't kill me." Gordon said with a smile.

"Don't count on it." John spat.

"Fine. Any more requests princess?" Bobby snapped.

"I wanna kill that mutt." Gordon finished.

"Outta the question." Bobby said with a shake of his head. "We'll let you go but you ain't gonna touch a hair on that boys head."

"Fine." Gordon agreed.

"Where's Dean?" John interrogated now that the negotiations were over. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him where to find the training house." Gordon said lazily.

"And where might that be?" Bobby demanded. Gordon rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh. John pushed himself off the wall and was back holding the knife to Gordon's skin in seconds.

"Alright, alright, Jesus Christ." Gordon yelled wincing from the pain. "A bar in Harrisburg. The Fresh Horses Saloon, that's where your damn mutt will be. Now you gonna let me go?"

"No." Bobby said pulling John away from Gordon once more. John shook him off and began walking out of the panic room with renewed energy.

"Excuse me?" Gordon barked. "We had a deal."

"Yeah I know and I lied." Bobby laughed. "You really think I'm gonna let you go after you shot my boy? I knew you were stupid Gordon but not this dumb."

"I'm gonna kill you." Gordon screamed tugging at his bonds. "I'll kill you all!"

"Yeah whatever." Bobby said before slamming the heavy door shut.

"You had me goin' there for a minute there Singer." John said looking ten shades of relieved but nowhere near relaxed.

"Hey I might be a drunk but I ain't stupid." Bobby said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Now let's go get that boy of yours."

~o0**0o~

"Hey now, you wouldn't shoot a kid now would ya?" Dean said slowly rising to his feet, the cold metal of the gun still pressed against the back of his head. _Nice going there Magnum_, he berated himself. _Way to go and get caught_.

"You ain't no kid. I can smell the dog on you." the man sneered. Dean could smell him too; stale beer, bad B.O, and something not quite human. _Great, _Dean scolded himself. _Not only did you get caught but, you got caught by another skinwalker. Bang up job there Dean_.

"Well, all the more reason not to shoot me right?" Dean pressed on in complete damage control mode. Bobby always said he had a smart mouth. Maybe he could talk his way out of this mess without acquiring a new bullet hole. "I'm like you, we're like-like monsters in arms."

"Shut up." The man growled. Clearly their monster kinship meant nothing to him putting Dean right back to square one.

"Listen, just let me go, I swear I won't tell anyone who you are." Dean begged trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. "Just let me go, please."

"I don't think so mutt." The man chuckled. "I know some people who'd like to meet you."

Dean froze. _Damn it, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_. So not only was the man a skinwalker but he worked for the training house. _Well what did you think dumb ass? Gordon said this bar was part of the training house's operation. Why wouldn't the owner work for them, dog or not?_

"Yeah well, I'm kinda in a hurry…" Dean said licking his lips. He had to get out of here now. His eyes darted around the poorly lit bar looking for an escape route. There was the front door but that would be too predictable. He could try to overpower the man and make a mad dash to the back but that was a risky move. "So I think I'll have to meet your friends some other time."

"Don't move." The man said putting more pressure on the gun so it dug into Dean's skin. _Shit, shit, shit, shit, c'mon Dean you gotta do somethin'_. Dean heard movement behind him as the man reached for a phone with one hand. The pressure of the gun slacked off, a cruse escaping the man's lips.

"Where the hell did I put that…?" he muttered. Dean squeezed his eyes shut tight in preparation for what he was about to do. It was now or never. Swinging around, Dean grabbed the barrel of the shot gun and ripped it from the man's think hands. "Hey!" the man shouted in surprise but Dean didn't stop. With the gun held firmly in his hands, Dean brought the butt down hard between the man's eyes. The man stumbled backwards, blood falling from his broken nose. "Son of a-" the man cursed.

Dean let the gun clatter to the floor as he made a mad dash to the front door. He could almost taste his freedom but just as he reached out for the door handle, something cold wrapped around his neck tightly, pulling him crashing down.

His skin burned as if someone held a hot poker to his skin. His breathing was cut off by the chain the man had managed to lasso around Dean's neck. Dean attempted to claw at the chain to alleviate the burning pain and breathe in the much needed oxygen but he couldn't grasp it for longer than a few seconds without his fingers burning.

He choked and sputtered, tears of pain welling up in his eyes. He could feel his world start to dim, the lack of oxygen taking its toll. Through the blur clouding his vision, Dean watched the blood soaked man stand over him. He held the rest of the chain in gloved hands, his lips pulling up into a sinister grin, blood running down over his lips and onto his chin.

"I said don't move." He said thickly before giving the chain a hard tug sending Dean spiraling into the darkness.

~o0**0o~

Sam sat on Bobby's couch straining his ears to hear the conversation his father and Bobby were having in the kitchen. He caught snatches here and there of some place called Fresh Horses Saloon but his Dad and Bobby were making sure to keep the level of their conversation to a low whisper. The mere fact that they were conspiring without him only served to piss him off. This was his fault, damn it. Dean over heard him, not Bobby, not his dad, him. He was the reason Dean took off. He should at least take part in the rescue mission. Sam needed to right his wrongs and to do that he needed to be in there with the adults strategizing.

He felt like complete shit. He hadn't meant what he said and he definitely didn't think of Dean as a monster. In fact it was the opposite. Sam was the one who felt like a monster. He should have never said those things, even if it was to prove a point. He wanted Dean to be part of their family, he wanted his brother but he knew his Dad. John Winchester was not the most accepting man on the planet, especially when it came to the supernatural. He might be all gung ho now but who knows what could happen later on down the line. Dean might do something that pisses John off and John could hurt him. Then what? As much as he hated to think it, he feared that they may never be able to be a family again. The thought made Sam sick.

It wasn't fair. Why did Dean have to be a skinwalker? Why'd it have to be his brother? Why couldn't it be someone else's? But if Sam started asking those questions he'd have to ask the big one too. Why did his mom have to die in the first place? Life would have been so much simpler. His mom would be alive. There'd be no hunting, no demons, no monsters. Dean would be 100% human and maybe Sam and his Dad might actually get along. No matter how hard Sam wished for it to have happened, there was no changing the past. His mom was still dead, his father was still a hunter, and Dean was still a skinwalker. Sam growled. Enough was enough. He was going to save Dean if it was the last thing he ever did. Skinwalker or not, Dean was still his brother and Sam loved him. To hell with whatever Bobby or his Dad said, he was going to bring his brother home.

Sam heard the sounds of chairs scraping across wood and the familiar sounds of people preparing for a hunt. Anger coursed through his veins. His Dad and Bobby were sorely mistaken if they thought they could skip out on him. Pushing himself up from the couch, Sam stalked over to the sliding doors that separated the living room from the kitchen and pulled them open. His Dad's and Bobby's heads snapped up as he entered with what he hoped was a severely pissed off expression.

"Where are you going?" Sam demanded.

"Bobby and I know where Dean is, we're goin' to go get him." John said loading shells into a shotgun before tossing it into a duffle.

"I'm going with you." He declared.

"Like hell you are." John snorted. "It's too dangerous Sammy. You're stayin' here."

"No I'm not. I'm coming too."

"You're Daddy ain't messin' around boy, you could get hurt." Bobby sympathized.

"I don't care; it's my fault Dean ran off so it's my responsibility to get him back."

"How many times do I have to tell you Sam?" his father sighed in frustration. "This is not your fault."

"It is so stop telling me it's not!" he screamed. "Dean has been missing for an hour! For all we know he could be dead by now! We need to find him and every bit of help matters! I don't care how dangerous it is! You're the one who wants me to start hunting Dad! So here I am! Let's go hunting!"

"Sam-"

"Please Dad, you gotta let me go, please." He cried.

Bobby and John looked stunned.

"He's got a point Winchester." Bobby said finally.

"Not helping Bobby." John hissed.

"Dad, he's my brother. I've gotta save him." Sam pleaded. He plastered his best puppy dog eyed expression on his face and prayed that his father would fall for it yet again. His father looked torn. Yes, every bit of help mattered but John already had one son in danger; he wasn't ready to risk the other. But Sam was a Winchester, hardheaded and stubborn. And he had those damn puppy eyes that could make even the coldest heart melt.

"Fine, you can come." John said giving in. "But under one condition."

"Anything." Sam said earnestly.

"You follow my orders. If I say run and hide, you better run and hide. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Sir." Sam nodded.

"Good. Now let's go get Dean."

~o0**0o~

He was naked. That was the first thing Dean realized as he came to. He was naked and it was cold. Blinking open his eyes, Dean took in to the room before him. Every inch of the space was painted white. White floors, white walls, white ceiling, everything. There were no windows and only one door leading in and out. Sliver chains hung from the walls, the shackles hanging open, waiting to close around human flesh. Dean struggled to push himself to his feet only to be pulled back to the floor by his own chains wrapped around his wrists and neck. Then the pain came, crashing into him like a brick wall. His skin burned, his throat bruised and swollen. He tried to call out but all that escaped his abused throat was a pitiful whimper. Unadulterated fear washed over him as the sense of familiarity sunk in. The white room, the chains, the pain, sent waves upon waves of memories flooding into his brain. He knew where he was. He was back.

Dean pushed back against the wall, trying to make himself as small as possible while his wild eyes scanned the room for a threat. This couldn't be happening. He was supposed to burn this place down to the ground, not end up back in its evil clutches. How the hell did this happen? _You_ _got caught snooping around the bar ass hat_. _The other skinwalker turned you in_. Dean shook his head. No, this had to be a dream, a very vivid realistic dream. But deep down, Dean knew the horrible truth. He had failed and got himself caught once more.

He felt like he was five again, fearful and hopeless, nowhere to go and no one to save him. It wouldn't be long before someone recognized who he was and then there would be hell to pay. Runaways and escapees were not treated kindly at the training house. The torture that was inflicted upon them was the worst kind imaginable. The trainers used them as an example, parading their beaten bodies around to every cage, insuring that anyone who attempted to run would get the same treatment. Dean suppressed a whimper as he remembered looking into the lifeless eyes of the 'walker as it passed by his cage, its body still living but no one home upstairs, nothing left of its humanity, just an empty shell. That's the punishment that awaited Dean once they figured out who he was. And they would find out, it was only a matter of time.

As if on a cue, the door to the room opened and a tall man with a buzz cut entered. Dean instinctively curled up further as if he contorted his body enough he really could disappear. The man chuckled as he walked closer, an overjoyed smile playing on his face.

"Imagine my surprise." the man said shoving his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants as he leisurely walked around the room looking anywhere but at Dean. "When I got the call from one of my mutts that he caught another dog snooping around his bar this morning. At first I was thrilled to be getting a new pup to add to my collection but when he brought _you_ in," the man breathed his cold blue eyes snapping over to Dean, hunger burning in their depths. "Well, I was beside myself! My lost little pup had come home! I was so sure that I'd lost you to that hunter all those years ago but here you are, all grown up into a fine looking dog!" he said crouching down in front of Dean and grabbing his chin. His free hand ran through Dean's hair, sending shivers down his spine.

Dean recognized the man as the head trainer, the voice that haunted his thoughts. In his years of living at the training house he had never come to know the man's name. He had always been the trainer in Dean's eyes.

"It's so good to have you home mutt."

"I'm n-not a-a m-mutt." Dean stammered trying to sound stronger than he felt. The man chuckled before backhanding Dean hard across the face.

"Poor little mutt." He cooed. "All those years out on your own, you've forgotten your place. I guess I'll just have to remind you."

"N-no p-please don't" Dean cried earning another sharp slap to the face.

"Lesson one: mutts don't talk." The man sneered. "You got that? Say it so I know you heard me."

Fury pushed past Dean's fear at the man's condescending tone. Dean was older now. He wasn't that scared little five year old anymore. He was Dean fucking Winchester. If he was going to die tonight he sure as hell was going to go down with a fight. The trainer could beat him all he wanted, he wasn't going to break Dean, he'd fight to the end. It was all he had left. Sam didn't want him. John would kill him. He was just a burden to Bobby. Taking down the training house was all he could do. If this really was his end, the least he could do is take down these bastards.

"I've g-got people l-looking for m-me." Dean fought back. "They're gonna find me and t-they're g-gonna kill you."

"No one is looking for you." the man hissed grabbing a fist full of Dean's hair and pulling his head back. "No one cares about you, you worthless piece of shit!"

"You're w-wrong." Dean choked out.

"I see the usually methods aren't goin' to work on you." the man said releasing Dean's hair roughly and getting to his feet. "I've been on the outside for too long. I'll just have to get a little…creative."

"F-fuck you."

The kick to his side came out of nowhere, stealing the breath from his lungs. Dean doubled over as far as he could without choking himself, wheezing. Just as his breath returned, the trainer landed yet another kick, the sound of cracking bones filling the air. Dean let out a strangled yelp, pain clouding his eyes. The sound of the door opening and the low murmurs of someone talking barely registered in Dean's pain riddled mind. _C'mon Dean_, he coached himself. _You've had worse, don't give in now_.

"Now don't come crying to me when things get bad." The trainer said stooping down to Dean's level once again, a deadly looking syringe in his hand. "You brought this on yourself."

"N-no wh-wait." Dean gagged trying to move away. But the trainer's large hand wrapped itself around Dean's arm holding him still. He plunged the needle deep into Dean's skin, injecting the clear liquid into his blood stream.

"Sweet dreams mutt." The trainer laughed roughly pushing Dean's limp form away. Dean struggled to keep his focus, fighting vainly against the inevitable. A baby's cry echoed loudly in Dean's ears as he lost the fight with the drug, his sanity slipping away.

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**tell me what you think!**


	11. Chapter 11

**a/n: because y'all asked so nice, I have a new chapter for you :) again I might not be able to update in the coming weeks but I said that last time and here we are...so you never know! Thank you again for all the kind reviews, favorites, and follows! This is not beta'd so all mistakes are my own. enjoy!**

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The nightmare played out in front of him like a horror story, no matter how hard he fought and screamed he couldn't get away from it. It shifted and changed, bright lights danced mockingly before his eyes, screams filling his ears, heat burning his skin, pain filling every pore. He would see Sam, chained to the wall opposite of him, head resting limply on his chest. Dean would scream, plead, and beg for Sam to move, to get out, save himself but he just sat there, unresponsive. A dog would enter, unfazed by Dean's shouts and growls. It would sniff Sam's neck, lick at his face, and seem as harmless as possible before it sunk its teeth into Sam's soft flesh, tearing at his throat, painting the walls with Sam's blood.

Dean fought, pulling on his restraints until he couldn't breathe; his wrists bleeding from the strain. Tears flowed from his eyes as he watched Sam bleed, not doing anything to stop it. Then Bobby would be there, standing over him, hate burning in his eyes. Dean would cry. He would beg for forgiveness but Bobby would just stare down at him. He would hit Dean, curse him over and over. He would scream horrible things, beat him bloody. When Bobby was done, John would come along and start the whole process over. Slowly they would fade away and Dean would be left alone, a broken, bloody mess on the floor. Sam would come back and grab Dean by the chin, forcing him to look up into Sam's bloody face.

"You are nothing but a monster." Sam would hiss. "Nothing but a mutt."

"Not…a mutt." Dean would chant, squeezing his eyes tight. "Not…real…you're not…real…not a….mutt." he would say it over and over, to make it stick. He wouldn't give in, he wouldn't break. That's what the trainers wanted to happen. Dean wouldn't give them the satisfaction. He would fight to the very end.

After a while, Sam's accusations would start to ebb away. The room would no longer be spinning, the harsh grip of reality taking hold as the drug left his system. But before Dean could gather the energy to do anything, the trainer would be back, a new syringe in his hand and the nightmare would begin again.

It went on like this for what felt like years, with each new dose Dean could feel himself slipping. The words would come across sharper, ringing true in his ears. But he couldn't give up, not yet. As Sam's condescending voice began to slip away, Dean heard a new voice whispering in the background.

"Dude, that's like the third dose." Someone murmured. "Skinwalker or not, he ain't gonna last that much longer. Not to mention, if he does survive, the withdrawal he'll go through. That alone might kill him."

"I can't help it." the head trainer snapped. "His body is working through this stuff like it's nothing. Do you have somethin' else I can use?"

"Nah man, that's the only stuff I got Kev."

_So the trainer has a name_, Dean through, his mind pushed past the point of exhaustion. _Kev, such a douche bag name for a douche bag ass hole_.

There was silence as if Kev was thinking something over. Dean remained still feigning unconsciousness. Maybe things were starting to turn in his favor.

"I'll give him one more dose. The mutt should be ready to obey after that." Kev said finally.

"And if he's not?" the other voice asked.

"I'll just have to kill him."

Dean swallowed. So much for hope. Before he knew it, there were hands on him, shaking him awake. Kev was in front of him, evil in his eyes. A flash of gold caught Dean's attention. Around Kev's neck was an amulet, the very same amulet Sam had given him, _his_ amulet. A spark of raged welled up in Dean, giving him the courage to fight back. Gathering up a mixture of saliva and blood on his tongue, Dean spat at the trainer with a growl. There was a sharp sting across his cheek where Kev had hit him.

"That wasn't very nice mutt." Kev hissed. "Now apologize."

"G-go…to hell." Dean choked out, his voice weak from screaming. Kev hit him again, this time hard enough to break the skin.

"I said apologize, mutt."

"I'm…not…a m-mutt." Dean said firmly locking eyes with Kev, challenging him. Dean watched as the trainer's control slipped away. He saw the fury break as his anger took over. Kev punched Dean hard, sending his head crashing back into the wall. He felt the bones in his nose snap and tasted the thick metallic blood that slid down his abused throat. Dazed and unable to move, Dean felt his right arm being let free from its silver restraint. Kev reached behind his back and pulled out a wicked looking silver knife. Dean struggled to move, his body no longer cooperating. Fear gripped at his heart, holding it so tight Dean was afraid it might explode.

Kev brought the knife down to the exposed underside of Dean's forearm. Without any hesitation, he began to carve, a scream tearing from Dean's lips. He bucked and withered from the pain, pleading and begging for it to stop but, Kev kept on carving. Blood spilled from the cuts, pooling on the floor as Dean's vision began to grey. Where was Bobby? Surely someone would have noticed that he'd gone missing? Unless his hallucinations were telling the truth and no one really cared about him. Dean felt the bile rise in the back of his throat. No one was going to come for him.

"You will listen to me mutt." Kev sneered tossing the bloody knife to the side. "You will obey me." He gripped Dean's injured arm and held it up for Dean to see. In crude jagged lines, Kev had carved the word mutt into his skin. Dean felt the fight leave his body as he sagged, his will breaking. "Tell me what you are." Kev demanded. He unlocked Dean's other arm, letting it fall boneless to his side but kept the chain around Dean's neck in place, keeping him chained to the wall like a dog.

"I'm…a mu-mutt." Dean whispered.

"What's that?" Kev asked again an evil glint in his eyes.

"I'm a…mutt."

"Good boy." Kev said with glee. He pushed himself to his feet, delivering a swift kick to Dean's side before he left. Dean doubled over gasping, lying in a pool of his own blood. Tears streamed down his face as he took in his mutilated arm. He knew those scars would never go away. They would always be there to remind him of who he was, of how alone he was, of how unloved he was. No one would be coming for him because no one cared. He was going to die in this place. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but sooner or later, he would die and no one would care because he wasn't Dean Winchester anymore. He wasn't even just plain old Dean. He was a mutt.

~o0**0o~

John maneuvered the Impala through the light early morning traffic, coming to a stop in front of the Fresh Horses Saloon. The parking lot was empty but there were lights on inside the bar. Through the tinted windows John could just barely make out a shape of a man walking around. He was hoping the bar would be empty; that way he and Bobby could sneak in, look for clues, and leave without leaving the slightest trace. The presence of a person threw a crimp in their plan but it was still manageable. Bobby was the first out of the car, adjusting the baseball hat on his head. John checked the clip in his gun before pushing out of the Impala, slamming the door shut.

"Stay behind me and Bobby." He addressed Sam.

"Yes sir." He replied keeping close to his father. The group walked up to the bar entrance and stepped inside without preamble. A large man with blood stains on his shirt was sweeping the floor, cleaning up the apparent signs of a struggle. John's heart leapt. Dean had been here.

"Hey," the beefy man yelled. "We're closed."

"Where's my son?" John asked pulling his gun on the man. Bobby slipped behind John blocking the entrance to the back in case the man tried to escape, gun trained on the man's balding head.

"Whoa hey," the man said raising his hands submissively. "What'cha talking about chief?"

"My son, you ass hat. Where is he?"

"I don't know any kid man, why don't you just put the gun down and we can talk about it?" the man said taking a step back towards the bar. John's eyes flashed over to the counter. Lying under a pile of papers was a poorly concealed shotgun, no doubt what the man was slowly trying to reach. John took a step forward, inches from the man, halting his slow movements.

"Sam, get his gun." He ordered. Sam obeyed slipping cautiously behind the big man and grabbing the shotgun from its hiding place, sending papers gliding to the floor. Stooping down Sam picked up one of the blood stained papers and began reading over it. It didn't make much sense but he figured the address that was repeated over and over might have some importance. Watching the man's back, Sam carefully scooted over to Bobby and handed him the sheet.

"Look at this." He said handing it over. Bobby snatched the paper with one hand, his clouded blue eyes reading over the sheet hurriedly.

"What's this?" he demanded. The man just shrugged his shoulders. John moved even closer until his gun was pressing up against the man's head.

"Answer him." He hissed.

"It's a manifest." The man sputtered out. "A shipping manifest."

"For the training house?" John questioned.

"h-how do you- oh I get it." the man snorted. "You must own that stupid mutt that broke in this morning."

"This the training house's address?" Bobby snapped holding up the paper.

"Yeah, but it won't matter. Kev's gonna kill that mutt." The man laughed. John snapped. He brought his gun down hard on the man's temple sending him flying to the floor in a crumbled heap.

"Bobby, do you know the place?" John asked without blinking an eye at the lump of a man at his feet.

"Yeah." Bobby said squinting down at the paper. "It's a few miles from here, shouldn't take long."

"Good, let's go." John said as he began walking out the door. In a matter of seconds the group was back in the car, tearing down the road. John's hands were gripped tight around the steering wheel. Dean had been missing a little over two hours now and every second he was out of John's sight brought on another wave of fear. What if he wasn't at the training house? What if they killed him on the way and dumped his body on the side of the road? What if they moved him out of the state? Or what if this was all a ruse and Dean was headed to a different state or hell, even Canada? The longer Dean was gone the more John blamed himself. If only he had been a better father, none of this would have happened. What would Mary say if she was still alive today? She would hate him. He abandoned his child, his first born and look what happened to him. How could anyone love a man like that?

After about twenty minutes of driving, Bobby nudged John to pull off the road.

"The house should be 'bout another mile down the road." He said glancing at a map. "We should head the rest of the way on foot."

"Hoping for the element of surprise?" John huffed, throwing the Impala in park.

"Yeah, somethin' like that."

"How you holding up Sam?" John asked glancing in the rearview mirror.

"I'm fine." He said quietly, his face pale.

"Sam?"

"I'm fine, let's just go get Dean." Sam reassured his father, stepping out of the car. Wordlessly Bobby and John check over the guns and weapons before starting the trek to the training house, anticipation growing with every step. Ten minutes later found the three of them hiding out in the trees across the street from the dreaded training house.

~o0**0o~

The training house wasn't at all what Sam imagined. He wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting to see but he was sure it wasn't this. It was a simple white farm house with a broad wraparound porch and dark green shutters. If he didn't know any better, he'd say it was a little old ladies house, not the home of sadistic bastards that like to torture people for fun. There were three dogs tethered in the front yard, no doubt skinwalkers, sleeping soundlessly. They would be the first obstacle in the way of reaching Dean.

But Bobby and his Dad weren't doing anything. They were just sitting there, watching the still house. Sam fidgeted. Why weren't they busting down the doors looking for Dean? For all they knew Dean could be in that house dying and they were just sitting there. Sam huffed and crossed his arms like a two year old. This was stupid. They had the weapons and the force; they should have already rescued Dean by now.

Not but a few moments later there was movement at the side of the house. The cellar doors swung open and a man with buzzed hair stepped out, blood covering his shirt. Sam froze, watching the man walk up the front stairs and disappearing into the house.

"Dad…" Sam breathed. There was no doubt in his mind at whose blood that was. They were running out of time.

"Ok, ok we need plan." His dad said tearing his eyes away from the house and fixing them on Bobby and Sam. "I was thinking Bobby and I could be go under as buyers but there is no guarantee that the bar owner hasn't called and sent out a warning. Any ideas Bobby?"

"I was thinkin' the same thing John but, that ain't gonna work." Bobby sighed.

"Well we gotta do something!" Sam nearly screamed. "Dean could be dying!"

"Sam!" John hissed. "We know!"

"Well you're not acting like it! You're just sitting here!"

"What do you want us to do? Go in there guns blazing completely unprepared?" John snapped back.

"Yes!" Sam retorted. "You can sit out here and wait all you want but nothing is going to change. Dean is still in there! You're never going to be prepared for this! Look at the cars in the driveway, there are only two! So that's eight people at best plus the three dogs outside! We're out gunned anyways! The longer we wait the more he suffers!"

"He's got a point there John. There's not much more we can do." Bobby said somberly. "We could wait and see if anyone leave but that's goin' on time we don't got."

"So you just want to march right up to the front door and start shootin'?" John asked.

"I don't see any other choice."

John seemed to ponder for a moment, deciding what to do. Sam and Bobby both were right, they didn't have time to waste.

"Did you pack those tranq darts?" John asked.

"Yeah."

"Good. Here's what we're gonna do. Bobby and I will sneak over, and hide out in that tree line over there. We'll tranq the dogs and make our way into the house. We might as well press our luck with the whole 'prospective buyers' gig. They may know about us or not either way, we're takin' them down. Once we're in, Sam, you head over to the cellar doors and find your brother. You got that?"

"Yes sir." Sam nodded his stomach twisting into knots.

"Good, let's go." John said getting to his feet. Sam watched as his father and Bobby slipped across the road and into the fringe of trees surrounding the house. One by one the dogs went down, giving in without a fight. The two older men climbed the front stairs, his father knocking on the door. It slowly opened, a different man, with long dirty brown hair answered. A few seconds later both Bobby and his dad entered the house, the door slamming shut behind them. That's when Sam made his move.

He took off across the street running to the cellar doors at full force. Once there, he slid to his knees reaching for his lock pick his Dad made sure he always had. He began working on it furiously and after a few seconds the lock came free.

The overpowering smell of blood and sweat hit Sam like a wall as he descended down the dark and narrow passage way. At first it looked like just a regular cellar, four dusty walls and a dirt floor, but on the wall dead ahead was a heavy steel door, rusted and smeared with dried blood. Sam gagged as he grew closer, pulling it open with one mighty tug. Beyond was a brightly light hallway, with three doors to each side. Sam wasted no time opening each door. The first two doors came up as a bust, just empty store closets but on the third try the door swung open to the reveal a white room, just as stark as the hallway he was standing in. But what caught his eye was the figure chained to the wall by its neck, a pool of dry blood beneath it.

"Dean…?" Sam gasped. It was his brother alright, a broken, bloody mess of his brother. His skin was bruised and red from where it had been touched by silver. His face was hollow and sunken. All traces of the Dean Sam knew was gone. Sam knelt beside Dean taking his head into his small hands. He felt for a pulse, holding his breath until he felt the thready beat under his fingers. "C'mon Dean wake up, we gotta go." Sam said working on the chain around his brother's neck. It slipped off freeing Dean from its hold but Dean didn't respond he just fell limply forward into Sam's arms. "Dean, wake up please!" Sam cried. The sounds of gun fire erupted above his head signaling that his father's and Bobby's cover had been blown. "I can't carry you Dean, you gotta get up and help me!"

"Oh I don't think that mutt's goin' anywhere." A sickly voice said from the doorway. Sam's head whipped around to find the man with the buzzed hair standing there, bleeding from his shoulder.

"G-get away from me!" Sam cried clutching Dean close.

"Well aren't you a pretty little boy." The man said taking a step into the room. Dean stirred in Sam's arms as if he was reacting to the panic in Sam's voice. "I'd bet you'd make a pretty dog too."

"I said stay back!" he screamed.

"What are you gonna do?" the man chuckled. "Kill me?"

"No." Dean's shaky voice sounded from Sam's lap. "b-but… I'll k-kill…you."

The smirk fell from the man's face as Dean slowly pushed his weak form up into a sitting position. Sam held on tightly to his thin arm, hiding behind his brother's body. The sounds coming from upstairs did not sound good. Judging by the panic that seemed to grow in the man's posture Sam guessed it was his side that was going down.

"Sit." The man spat at Dean, ordering him around like a dog. But Dean ignored him, pushing himself up to stand on wobbly legs. "I said sit or I'll kill the boy."

"N-not if…I….kill y-you…first." Dean growled in a pitiful voice.

"You can't kill me mutt." The man laughed nervously reaching behind his back. "You're too weak."

"N-not that…weak." Dean said right before he lunged at the man, sifting into dog form. The man pulled out a gun but wasn't fast enough to fight off Dean's attack. A ferocious growl filled the room as Dean tore at the man's throat, slicking the floor with the man's blood. Sam watched as the man fell to the ground twitching until his life drained from his eyes.

"Dean…?" Sam breathed catching his brother right before he hit the ground naked and human once more. "Dean, hey man, stay with me ok? I'm gonna get you out ok? We're gonna get you out."

"S'mmy." Dean muttered his eyelids fluttering.

"No, c'mon Dean, you gotta stay with me ok? You can't die! You can't! You hear me?! You gotta stay awake! You're my brother! Ok? You gotta stick around and be my big brother!" Sam screamed.

A small smile played on Dean's face right before his eyes slid shut.

"NO DEAN C'MON!"

"Sam?" John's voice echoed out in the hallway.

"DAD! In here!"

"Sam-oh my god, Dean!" John cried coming to a stop outside of the white room. He looked sweaty and a bruise was forming under his left eye but all around intact. He stood frozen in the door way taking in the horror scene before him. There was a dead man lying on the ground with his throat ripped out and his youngest son just mere inches away clutching onto his brother for dear life. It was enough to make him sick. Cautiously, John entered the room stepping over the corpse and gathering both of his sons up in a tight hug.

"Dad, Dean," Sam's muffled voice cried. "Is he-he's still-"

"He's still breathing Sammy." John said releasing them, giving his youngest reassurance. He took Dean up into his arms, holding back the bile he felt rise as he looked at his sons mutilated arm. He wished he could have been the one to kill the bastard that did this to his son. He wished he could kill him a thousand times over. "C'mon, let's get him home."

"What about the others?" Sam asked timidly.

"We got them Sammy, they're gone. Dean's gonna be safe now." John smiled getting to his feet, holding Dean close. "C'mon we gotta get a move on before the cops show up."

Sam nodded, standing up. He followed close behind his father as he left the room. But he stopped when he reached the dead man's corpse. Bending down he yanked Dean's amulet off the remains of the man's neck and delivered a sharp kick to his head.

"That's for my brother you bastard."

"C'mon Sam!" John called nearly out of the cellar. Sam ran from the room, his heart soaring. He had his brother back. There wasn't much more he could ask for.

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**the road to recovery ahead! until then, tell me what you think!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/n: hey y'all! I'm so sorry for leaving you waiting! the past couple of weeks have been very busy but now that the semester is over I've got all the time in the world to write! **

**I know this chapter is a bit shorter than normal but I'm just getting back in the swing of things and I felt really bad for not updating in so long! As always, thanks for the reviews, favorites and, follows :) Hope you enjoy!**

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Dean remained unconscious the whole trip back to Bobby's; his broken nose and the lesions on his wrists and neck had already started to heal thanks to his skinwalker abilities. Dean's head rested securely in Sam's lap as his skinny fingers ran through Dean's dirty hair repeatedly. His father and Bobby sat in the front seat, deep in conversation, Gordon's name making an appearance more than once. The early afternoon sun illuminated the interior of the Impala but Sam couldn't help but yawn. It was hard to believe that Dean had been shot, poisoned and, tortured all within the span of ten hours. It felt more like years to Sam than hours, long, painful years. But Dean's reassuring weight reminded Sam that all that was over. His brother was safe from the clutches of those who had stolen and tortured him all those years ago. Sam was starting to think things were getting better, that the worst was finally over. Then the withdrawal hit.

His father had just gotten Dean settled down in his bed, when a pained moan escaped Dean's cracked lips turning more needy by the second. His boy began to trash, not with pain but with want. He begged and pleaded just for 'a little bit more' but Bobby and the two Winchesters were at a loss as to what he wanted. Dean's half lidded green eyes were riddled with confusion, filled with both need and the fight to resist. Sam watched helplessly as John and Bobby held Dean's weak arms down to stop him from hurting himself in his struggles. He ran a warm cloth over his brother's forehead, wiping away the sweat, Dean's pleas filling his ears. Sam forced himself to stay by Dean's side. He owed him that much. But after what felt like the millionth time Dean had screamed for someone, anyone, to kill him, Sam had had enough. He took off, running out of the bedroom, his own name ringing in his ears.

Sam ran all the way out into the middle of the junk yard, taking shelter in the backseat of a rusted pickup. Tears streamed down his face, his emotions overpowering him. The same old question of why repeated over and over like a tape recording in his mind. He knew he should be in the house with Dean, but he couldn't take it. His brother sounded so broken and helpless. That's not what big brothers were supposed to sound like, especially someone like Dean.

Hours past and Sam was still curled up in the backseat, sleep overtaking him the second his tears ran dry. Nightmares of blood and teeth plagued his dreams until a firm hand gripped his shoulder causing him to jolt awake.

"Bobby?" Sam asked sluggishly, wiping grit from his tired eyes.

"You're a hard little shit to find you know that?" Bobby grumbled. "Don't need to be givin' your daddy anymore grief by disappearin' on us kid."

"I'm sorry Bobby." Sam apologized ducking his head in shame. "I just…I couldn't see him like that anymore."

"That's ok kiddo," Bobby said offering Sam a smile. "It's a hard thing to watch."

"Is it…is it over yet?" he whispered.

"Yeah, I think he's outta the woods now. He's sleepin' if you wanna go see him before dinner."

Dinner? Sam looked out the windshield of the truck to find the sun already setting. No wonder Bobby was a little grump at him, he must have been 'missing' for hours now. His stomach grumbled earnestly as he pushed his way out of the beat up old truck.

"Bobby?" Sam asked as the old man led him through the maze of junk cars.

"Yeah Sam?"

"Why'd they do that to him?" Sam questioned walking as close to Bobby as he could. Bobby sighed and adjusted the trucker's hat on the head.

"I don't know Sam. Submission I reason. Knowin' your fool headed brother, it's probably the only way they could get him to cooperate."

"He didn't deserve that." Sam hissed, tears stinging his eyes once more.

"Don't I know it kid. You're brother may be an ass but that ain't no reason for him to have to go through that shit. Those damn bastards deserver a lot more than they got."

"Is he gonna be ok Bobby?"

"I hope so kid, I hope so."

~o0**0o~

Dean was sleeping when Sam entered the upstairs bedroom. If possible he looked worse than he did when they had rescued him from the training house. His skin was a pale as the sheets he rested on and it had a waxy, drawn look that made him seem years older than fifteen. Bruise like circles hung below his closed eyes providing the only color to his complexion. Sam tip toed to the side of the bed and quietly climbed up, not wanting to wake his brother.

"Oh Dean," Sam sighed. He bent down and touched his forehead to his brother's, feeling the heat that washed off him in waves. "I'm so sorry. This is – this is _all_ my fault. I didn't mean what I said back at the clinic, I don't think you're a monster. You're my brother! Half of my life I thought you were dead, Dad had given up looking so long ago…then we find you, just like that. I don't care that you can turn into a dog. I don't. I love you just the way you are.

Dad loves you too. I know he's got a funny way of showing it but he does Dean. You should have seen him take on that guy at the bar. Man,_ I_ was scared of him. He'd do anything for you Dean. It doesn't matter what you are, he doesn't care. And I know you know Bobby loves you. You'd be stupid to think he doesn't, after all he's done." Sam chuckled pulling his head away. He entwined his fingers around Dean and held tightly, warming his cold flesh.

"But you gotta get better man. I need you back, like before. We can play football and-and you can help me with my homework. You may not have gone to school but I know Bobby's taught you stuff. Even as a dog I could tell you were smart. I need you to be here for me. I need you to rant to about all the stupid stuff Dad makes us do. I need you to get better so you can be my big brother ok? I just want you to be my big brother."

Sam fought back the tears he felt forming in his eyes. _God, when did I become such a girl_? But somehow he knew he couldn't stop the flow of emotion. Every word he said, he meant and he would do everything in his power to prove it. All of this was his mess. It was his words that drove Dean to run. He had to be the one to make it right; not Bobby, not his dad, him. Sam was going to make it up to his brother if it was the last thing he ever did. His stomach let out a painful grumble. With a sigh, Sam decided he should probably join his dad and Bobby down stairs for dinner. Just as he was about to let go of Dean's hand, cold fingers gripped him tightly.

"Dean?" Sam breathed.

He watched as his brother struggled to open his heavy eyes. Dean's brow furrowed, blinking several times in the dim light of the room. Sam could feel the smile grow on his face.

"Hey man, how you feelin'?"

Dean didn't answer. Instead he turned his head to look Sam dead in the eye. Apprehension tore at Sam's heart as he tried to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swimming in Dean's glassy eyes.

"Dean…you ok man? You're kinda freakin' me out." Sam asked timidly, still holding onto his brother's hand. Dean still didn't respond. Something inside of Sam was screaming at him to get help but he was frozen in his spot, entranced by Dean's troubled gaze. Slowly, bit by bit, he watched the light seep from Dean's eyes. He watched as his brother closed in on himself, locking out the world.

"No, no Dean don't. Please man stay with me!" Sam cried grasping Dean's face between his hands once he realized what was happening. "Don't you go away, not now!"

Dean blinked at him before turning his head, staring vacantly at the bedroom wall.

He couldn't hold back his tears this time. Sam collapsed onto Dean's chest; his hands gripping Dean's t-shirt like his life depended on it.

"Please Dean, don't go. I need you!" he cried, his voice muffled. "Why don't you get that I need you?"

His cries fell on deaf ears. Dean was gone, hiding deep inside of himself, far away from the world as he could manage. All Sam saw as he looked into the face of his brother were lifeless green eyes. His brother was as good as gone.

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**Tell me what you think!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/n: another chapter woohoo! This one is the previous chapter told in Dean's POV so you might want to have some tissues ready. I'm sorry for the pain I've caused and I'm just going to go ahead and warn you that things might get worse before they get better. Besides, who doesn't love some angst every now and then, am I right? Anyways, thank you so much for the reviews, favorites, and follows. I'm so glad people have taken to this the way they have, it makes my day :) As always, this is not beta'd so all mistakes are mine. Enjoy!**

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Dean can feel his body being moved but he doesn't acknowledge it. He keeps his eyes shut and his breathing even. The weariness he feels is bone deep, just the thought of blinking is a monumental feat. He feels his body being placed against something warm and familiar, fingers running though his hair and a steadying motion, sweet nothings of comfort being whispered in his ear. It's comforting and before he knows it, he is slipping into the welcoming arms of sleep.

He wakes again, his body just as worn as before. His brief venture into the land of sleep had little to no effect on his broken mind and body. His limbs still felt like they weight a ton and the pain from the torture still throbbed with every heartbeat even though he knew the wounds were healed. He felt wasted, used up and wrung out like a dirty rag, frayed and beaten. He was dead, empty, on the inside. He had no drive, no desire to open his eyes and face the world. He couldn't, not after what he had done. He truly was a monster now. He had no place in the world anymore. John should just put him out of his misery and end his pitiful existence. It's not like he would ever accept him now anyways. Loving a mutt was one thing but, loving a killer was a whole new ball game.

Dean longed for sleep; he wanted to drift away again but a fiery need began to spread through his blood. It ate at his stomach, his mind becoming a one track city. He needed more; more of whatever Kev had given him. He needed the poison that fueled his nightmares, he didn't want it. Lord knows he didn't want it. It wasn't a matter of want; it was a deep unrelenting need. His body was craving it, burning hot for the pick of the needle and the cool rush of the drug flowing through his veins. He moaned, his body twisting on whatever bed he had been placed on.

"Dean buddy? You wakin' up?" John's voice questioned. Dean shutters at his tone. It's so soft, so comforting, it's everything Dean wants but doesn't deserve. He moans again, this time louder and more frantic.

"Dad, what's happening?" Sam's scared voice chimes in. Sam. Sammy. His little brother.

"Go get Bobby." John ordered.

"P-please." Dean cries his voice raw. "J-just a l-little."

"Just a little what Dean? What do you need?"

"M-m-more."

"More what kiddo?"

"More, I need more." Dean all but screams. His body is shaking with need. It blossoms into pain, bone crunching pain. He can't see, he can't think, he can't breathe. "Please just give me more! I'll do anything, please! I just need a little bit more!"

"Dean, buddy you gotta calm down!" John yells forcefully. "What do you need more of, you gotta tell me so I can help."

"You ain't gonna be able to give him what he needs John." Bobby's voice grumbles. Dean can feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Why won't they just shut up and find some more of that drug? Surely Kev has more hidden somewhere. He just needs a little bit, just a tiny little bit.

"Why? What does he want?" Sam's timid little voice questioned.

"They got him hooked on somthin' nasty. LSD, PCP, Peyote take your pick. Whatever he's on, he's comin' down and it ain't gonna be pretty." Bobby said grimly his voice like nails on a chalkboard in Dean's ears. He thrashed harder, his skin crawling. Sweat dripped down his forehead wetting the sheets.

"What can we do?" John asks.

_Ugh, god you can find me some more, that's what you can do_, Dean thinks but all that escapes his lips is a guttural cry.

"Please, please just give me more! Sammy, please help me!" he begs. If John and Bobby won't do anything for him he knows his baby brother will. He knows Sammy would do anything for him.

"We gotta ride it out."

"No! Please just- just give me more!"

"Can't do that buddy." Bobby said his rough hand closing around Dean's thrashing arm. He can feel John's hand around him too. Their touch sends shock waves through Dean's body making him convulse harder. There is something warm pressed against his forehead, the cloth dragging across his skin like barbs. The pain escalates, driving him mad. All he needs is just one more hit, just one and things would be better. Why couldn't they just give him one more?

"Kill me!" he cries. Tears leak from his clenched eyes. He doesn't want to exist anymore. He doesn't want to feel the pain, the need, the disappointment. He just wants it to be over, to never feel again. "Please, Sammy kill me! Kill me!"

Time slips away from him; seconds turn into hours, hours into years. He doesn't know how long he lays there, thrashing, begging, and pleading. He screams for Sam over and over but somehow deep down he knows Sam's not there. John and Bobby are the only two with him. _They're keeping you alive so they can kill you on their own terms_, the nasty little voice that sounds hauntingly like Kev, hisses at him. _They're gonna kill you nice and slow mutt. Pay back for all the hell you've cause. Kill you for being the little shit of a monster you are_. Dean can only hope that the voice is right. He doesn't deserve to be here, to be alive. He deserves to die.

~o0**0o~

"…I need you back, like before. We can play football and-and you can help me with my homework. You may not have gone to school but I know Bobby's taught you stuff. Even as a dog I could tell you were smart. I need you to be here for me. I need you to rant to about all the stupid stuff Dad makes us do. I need you to get better so you can be my big brother ok? I just want you to be my big brother."

Sam's voice rushes over him like cool water as he wakes. It's soft and comforting. His body is weary and ragged, his mind just as wreaked. He could get lost in Sam's voice. There is no pain there, only innocence. Dean lays there for a minute more, listening to Sam's breathing. The bed shifts as Sam moves to get up. Dean panics, his fingers clasping around his warm hand, silently begging him to stay.

"Dean?" Sam breathed.

Dean struggled to open his eyes. They felt like they were crusted shut, not wanting him to see the world. Finally, he managed to pry them open, blinking away the blurriness. Sam is hovering over him, a wide smile playing across his face. Dark circles hung under his eyes, his hair disheveled from one too many swipes through his fingers.

"Hey man, how you feelin'?"

Dean couldn't answer. Instead he zoned in on the look of joy Sam was giving him. Guilt tore at his heart. Behind the childlike glee shining in his blue green eyes, Dean could see the pain and exhaustion clear as day. He did that. He put that there. He made Sam suffer. He was Sam's big brother for fucks sakes, it was his job to protect Sam from those emotions and here he was, handing them out like gifts.

He had almost gotten Sam killed. He remembered it clearly through the haze of pain. Dean heard Kev threaten Sam; he could smell Kev's excitement of turning Sam into a monster like Dean. He had almost lost his brother and it would have been his fault. If he hadn't acted like a baby and ran away, if he hadn't been so stupid to think that he could take on the training house by himself, Sam would have never had to been in that position. Sam would have been safe. He wouldn't look the way he does now.

"Dean…you ok man? You're kinda freakin' me out." Sam asked timidly, still holding onto Dean's hand. Dean starts to build his walls. This should have never happened. He should even be here. He should be dead. Bobby should have killed him a long time ago. All he's ever done was cause problems and ruin people's lives. That's why he couldn't have a family, it's because he didn't deserve to have one. Brick by brick he closed himself in, hiding from the world. He couldn't face it anymore, his sin were too great.

"No, no Dean don't. Please man stay with me!" Sam cried. Dean could feel Sam's hands grab his face but he didn't fight him. "Don't you go away, not now!"

Dean blinked at him before turning his head, staring vacantly at the bedroom wall. He had caused too much pain in his baby brother's life. He wouldn't do it again.

He felt Sam's head fall onto his chest, his fingers gripping the thin shirt he wore. Dean forced himself not to care.

"Please Dean, don't go. I need you!" Sam cried his voice muffled. "Why don't you get that I need you?"

"Sam? What's goin' on in here boy?"

"Bobby." Sam cried even harder. "Dean's gone!" there was a hurried shuffle of feet followed by a dip in mattress as Bobby rushed over to Dean's side. Dean felt his rough fingers probed at his neck looking for a pulse.

"Sam, I don't-"

"He's gone Bobby, he won't look at me, and he won't talk to me! He's gone!"

"Dean, buddy look at me." Bobby ordered gently, rough hands moving from his neck to cup his face. The guilt was even greater now. He thought up all the times he let Bobby down, all the times he screwed things up, cause Bobby pain. It was a wonder Bobby kept him around so long. "C'mon son, don't do this to me again. Look at me."

Dean didn't move.

"Damn it Dean, c'mon! Don't you do this!"

Dean didn't have to be looking at Bobby's face to know there were tears streaming from his eyes. He did that too, he made Bobby cry, all the more reason to hide away from the world. If Dean wasn't there, than no one would ever get hurt again. So he would stay away, locked inside of himself until the glorious day when he would no longer be alive to cause pain. He would sit and wait for Dean Winchester to fade away. There would be no more pain, no more fear, no more 'mutt', nothing but the blissful dark.

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**tell me what you think!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/n: Thank you so so much for the kind reviews! I know I haven't responded to them put trust me when I say that I appreciate every single one and value your words of support! You are the best readers ever! So as a thank you, I give you an update. Just don't hate me at the end... **

**as always, this is not beta'd so all mistakes are mine! Hope you enjoy and remember, don't hate me.**

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"Gordon all taken care of?" Bobby asked gruffly as John entered the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge.

"Yeah. The bastard should be wakin' up just as the cops arrive." John responded grabbing two beers and offering one to Bobby. "Still think we should have killed the son of a bitch."

"No shit, but we got enough to worry about." Bobby sighed. "We ain't got time to deal with a dead body. 'Sides, we planted enough evidence in that hotel room to keep Gordon locked up for a good long bit."

"You really think the cops will go for it?" John asked taking a seat next to Bobby, resting his elbows on the smooth wood of the kitchen table.

"We've got the guns we used at the training house, the floor plan, and some blood of those rat bastards all around the room. Everything points to Gordon. It may not hold up forever, but it'll keep our boy safe for a while."

"How's he doin' anyways? He say anything yet?"

"Not a word." Bobby said grimly. He took a long pull from his beer letting the alcohol numb his mind. It had been almost four days and Dean hadn't said one word. He wouldn't acknowledge anyone. He wouldn't sleep, he wouldn't eat, hell he wouldn't move if John or Bobby didn't physically move him themselves. It was like Dean had given up on the world, absolutely no fight left in him at all.

"You…you know him better, has he done this before?" John stuttered eyes down cast. "Like when you first got him?"

Bobby was silent at first, nursing his beer, his eyes far away and distant.

"Yeah, the first couple of weeks." He said finally. "He didn't do much but it was never this bad."

"He was like this after his mother died. You know, this whole not talking thing. People started to think something was wrong with him. But after a while he grew out of it but then…but then he was gone."

"Well just so you know, that kid of yours gotta mouth on him." Bobby chuckled longingly. "I could never get him to shut up half of the time. I swear he was gonna talk me to death."

John laughed and took a swig of his beer. It was crazy how much Dean was like his mom. Mary use to talk like that. It didn't matter what it was, she was always telling John something. It was one of the things John loved and hated about her. Now he would give anything just to hear her say one little word.

"He's gonna talk again John." Bobby said firmly pulling John from his thoughts. "Don't you doubt it."

"I know. It's just…it's hard."

"Well it ain't no cake walk for him…or his brother."

"How long…"

"As long as he needs." Bobby said sternly. "You can't rush this John. That boy's been through hell, that's not somthin' you just get over. "

"I know but Bobby," John said hesitantly his fingers tracing the label on his beer bottle. "I'm not the kinda guy to just sit around…I never planned to stay this long. I need to get out there, find a hunt, look for the thing that killed me wife."

"You gotta be shitting me." Bobby snarled slamming his hands down on the table making John jump. "Your boy is hurtin', your other one is barely holdin' on and you wanna go huntin'?"

"No Bobby that's what I mean-"

"Sure sounds like it to me. Sounds like you wanna ditch your kids and get out."

"I would never, leave my children. Ever. You got no right."

"Well I ain't the one itchin' for a hunt." Bobby said getting to his feet. John followed, his chair crashing to the ground.

"I'm not leaving them." John hissed.

"Good, glad to hear you got your priorities right." Bobby said simply snatching John's empty bottle off the table and making his way over the sink. John stood there fuming.

"You're an ornery old bastard you know that?" he sighed picking up his chair and sinking back down.

"Yeah I do." Bobby chuckled reaching for two more beers.

"Can you…you know, tell me about him, what he's like?"

"Who, Dean?"

"It's just, there's so much I don't know about him and you've – you were the one to raise him, not me. I just want to know what he's like."

"You sure you wanna open that can of worms?" Bobby said with a smirk.

"Oh god, he's that bad?" John huffed hiding his face behind his hands.

"I don't know where he got it from but that boy's handful. Wasn't so much in the beginning but somethin' about reachin' puberty turned that boy into a whole new kinda animal. You're gonna have a lady killer on your hands."

"You think he'll come with me, when this is all over?" John asked trying to keep the hope out of his voice. "He's been with you for so long, do you think he'll come with me and Sam?"

The question seemed to sober Bobby, his mouth a thin line under his whiskers. He would be lying if the thought hadn't crossed his mind since the revelation of Dean's parentage. It was a sticky situation that would be painful any way you sliced it. Dean would either be leaving Bobby, the man that practically raised him, or he'd be leaving his father and brother. One way or another Dean was going to be leaving someone. Bobby didn't envy the kid at all.

"I don't know John." He sighed. "That's Dean's decision to make when the time comes. But he's gotta get better first."

"And god knows how long that's goin' to take."

"Right, so we got nothin' to worry about yet."

"Yup, plenty of time."

Both of the men nodded and took long pulls from their beers.

"Plenty of time…"

~o0**0o~

Sam watched as Dean sat on the couch in Bobby's living room, his legs drawn close to his body, the amulet Sam gave him hanging around his neck, his eyes focused absently at the bookshelf across from him. He blinked every now and then but that was the only thing he did. Sometimes Sam would catch him tracing the thin scars on his forearm that never completely faded away, his eyes glassy with tears. When that happened, Sam would grab Dean's face and force him to look at Sam. He would tell him over and over how important he is, he would tell Dean how loved he was but it never seemed to make a difference. Dean never seemed to listen.

With a sigh, Sam moved from his spot on the floor and plopped down on the couch next to Dean. He scooted as close as he could, resting his head on his big brother's shoulder. He watched Dean's chest move up and down rhythmically. Sam brushed some fuzz off of Dean's sweat pants and sighed again, this time louder.

"I know you're in there Dean." He said quietly. "You can't hide forever. I'm gonna find a way to bring you back."

Sam glanced up at Dean's gaunt face hoping for some sort of reaction. He was met with the same blank stare he had been dealing with for a week.

"I'm not gonna give up on you Dean, I'll never give up on you just like you'll never give up on me."

Dean blinked, something glinting in his eyes. Sam jolted upright.

"Dean?" he asked cautiously. But whatever Sam saw was gone. Sam slumped back down, sagging against Dean's thin frame. And idea suddenly sparked in Sam's head. If there was one thing he knew about Dean, it was his drive to protect. He protected Sam from getting shot by Gordon and from the man back at the training house. He would do anything to keep Sam safe; even if he was locked way down deep inside of himself, Sam would bet Dean would still try and save him. It wasn't much, but Sam could work with it. "I'm not kidding jerk. I'm gonna find you."

~o0**0o~

It was a mild, fall, Saturday morning, the sky cloudy and the wind bringing the first bit of chill to the lonely junk yard. John, Sam, Bobby, and Dean were all out in the garage. John and Bobby were busy working on the underside of a beat up Chevy Chevelle while Sam sat with Dean off to the side, watching the old men work. It had been three weeks since the training house incident and Dean had yet to say a word. The silence from the young man was deafening. Bobby and the Winchesters had long given up on trying to get him to speak, now they just sat around and waited. Sam went back to school, John helped Bobby out around the house, and Dean just sat there.

"Well I don't know about you old man," John said stepping out from underneath the car. "But I could go for some food and a beer."

"I don't know who you callin' old Winchester." Bobby shot back appearing seconds later covered in grease. "You ain't that much younger than me."

"Sure look better than you."

"Whatever you say jack ass." Bobby chuckled wiping his hands on an old rag before tossing it over his shoulder.

"Sam you and Dean comin'?" John asked half way out of the garage.

"Nah, me and Dean are gonna sit out here for a little bit more." Sam said picking at his nails trying to look as relaxed as possible. His insides were churning with excitement. Today was going to be the day. He was going to bring Dean back, he could feel it.

"Whatever you say sport." John said. "Call if you need help bringing Dean inside."

"Ok dad." Sam called to his and Bobby's retreating backs. Sam watched and waited until the screen door slammed shut before jumping down from his stool. "Just remember," he told Dean as he looked up at the rusty car sitting on the lift. "I'm doin' this for you, so don't get mad at me."

Getting no response from Dean, Sam shrugged his shoulders and began to climb. Getting up to the top of the car wasn't the hard part, that part was easy. It was the getting down bit that was causing Sam's palms to sweat and heart to flutter.

Standing on the roof of the car, his head just inches from the sheet metal that covered the garage, Sam took a second to marvel at the sight. He felt like a giant, a king. Everything else looked so small, even his larger than life brother, especially now. Seeing Dean sitting so vacantly on a stool next to the tool bench sent a surge of determination through Sam. He could do this; he was going to save his brother. Carefully Sam slipped down to his bottom and slid down the windshield, come to a rest on the hood of the car. Taking a deep breath he stood up, swaying unevenly.

"Hey! Dean!" he shouted arms out beside him like he was walking a tight rope. "Look Dean! Do you think I could try out for the circus? I could be one of those people that swing from the ceiling! Wouldn't that be cool? Way better than being a hunter don't you think? I'd just have to make sure I work at a circus that didn't have clowns!"

Sam took another step forward, getting closer and closer to the edge. He was about to start yelling when his balance slipped and he ankle gave way. Crying out, Sam fell backward onto the hood of the car, his body being pulled back down to earth by gravity. Twisting, Sam reached out for anything to stop his fall. Just as his stomach slipped over the edge of the car, Sam's hands gripped the front bumper. He held on desperately but he began to lose his hold as his hands began to sweat harder.

"Dean!" he cried out fear in his voice. "Dean, help me! You gotta wake up man, I'm slipping! Dean, please!"

His fingers began to slip more, he was barely holding on. _Damn it this was supposed to work_! He thought frantically. The reality that he just might fall and kill himself washed over him in a wave of panic. Not to mention the stupidity of his plan. One of his hands completely slipped, a cry of pain ripping from his lips as his remaining arm was forced to hold his weight. Sam's heart pounded furiously in his chest as he felt his remaining fingers slide on the rusted bumper. This was it. He was going to die and Dean wasn't going to be there to save him.

"DEAN!" he screamed as his hand came loose. Then he was falling, air howling in his ears. Sam scrunched his eyes tight and waited for the inevitable impact that was to lead to his doom.

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**omg don't hate me please but do tell me what you think! **


	15. Chapter 15

**A/n: Thank you for all the review, favorites, and follows! I hate to say this but we are nearing the end, just one little epilogue to go. It kinda makes me sad but I'll save all that stuff for the last chapter. As always this is no beta'd so all mistakes are my own. I hope you enjoy. ps - no evil cliffhangers this time but you might need some tissues...**

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Sam's collision didn't feel like what he expected. For one, it was soft and warm, still hard enough to knock the wind out of him, but not nearly as hard as the concrete. Secondly, whatever he landed on was breathing. Sam's eyes snapped open to find Dean's wide green eyes staring back at him, brimming with fear. Dean gently placed Sam on his feet but kept an iron grip on his arms.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Dean spat his finger digging into the meat of Sam's arms painfully. "Do you know how stupid that was? What the hell were you thinking? What if I wasn't here huh? You could have died!"

Sam could see how angry Dean was but he couldn't help the smile that was steadily growing on his face. His plan worked, Dean was back. He was mad as hell but Sam would take a mad Dean over no Dean any day. Seeing the fire that blazed in Dean's eyes was invigorating. They were full of life, not empty and sad like they had been. Dean was back.

"Yeah it was stupid." Sam smiled his insides twisting with delight. "But it got you talkin' again didn't it?"

At that, Dean's mouth snapped shut and his arms dropped to his sides. Sam watched as he hastily tried to close himself up again.

"Oh know you don't. Don't you even think about it." Sam hissed grabbing onto Dean's wrist. "If you go into hiding again I'm gonna climb back up there and jump off for real this time. It won't be an accident like before. I'll fucking do it."

"S-Sam." Dean gasped.

"You listen to me now." Sam shouted drawing himself up to his full height. "I get that things kinda sucked, well they really sucked, but we got you out Dean. It's over now. You shouldn't be hiding you should be out celebrating. Things are better now! You gotta a family now! Me and Dad and Bobby, we're gonna look after you and love you! I know you overheard what I said back at the clinic but I didn't mean it! I was trying to prove a point!

You're my brother! Dad figured it out, he figured it all out! You are my long lost brother Dean Winchester! You're my family and I don't care that you can turn into a dog, I don't! I love you just the way you are! Why can't you see that?! No one cares Dean, you are still you and that's all that matters! Don't you think you deserve some happiness Dean? Don't you think you deserve a family?"

"No I don't." Dean said firmly looking at Sam with wide green eyes, sparkling with unshed tears.

"Why not?"

"Because of what I did." He said frustration eating at his core. Dean ran his fingers through his short hair, his teeth grinding together. His hand slipped from his hair and traced over the scars on his forearm, the scars that branded him as a monster, a mutt. "Gordon came for me because of what I am and you were the one who almost got shot! That's my fault! If I didn't fuck up, if…if I wasn't here than that would have never happened! I went after the training house, not you, but you still almost got hurt!"

"Almost Dean! I almost got hurt! But I didn't! You saved me! Both times! You jumped in front of Gordon to protect me! You killed that man who was going to kill me! You've saved my life twice! If any of this is anyone's fault blame the bastards who did this to you but please god don't blame yourself!"

"That's not the point!" Dean snapped his tears running freely down his face. "Don't you see Sam?! I'm no good! I'm bad luck! People around me always end up hurt! It's all on me, that's why I don't deserve a family! Because sooner or later I'm gonna fuck up again and someone is gonna get hurt, they always get hurt!"

"God damn it Dean!" Sam yelled growing equally frustrated. "People get hurt ok! That's just life! It's not because of you or what you are, it just happens! Do you really want to spend the rest of your days locked away in your own head? Do you want to forget about the people who love you just so you can throw a-a god damn pity party?! No one blames you for anything! Please man, I'm begging you. Just stay with me. Be my brother. Make fun of me and call me a geek. Tell me I'm too short or that-that you can kick my ass because I'm your stupid little brother! Stop running away from me Dean. Just be my brother!"

Dean's shoulders slumped in defeat. He knew Sam had won. He wanted to be Sam's brother; he wanted a family, with all his heart. He was just so scared that he would hurt them. If he ever hurt them…Dean wasn't sure he'd be able to live with himself. Sam, Bobby, John, they were all he had. If he lost them…how could he possibly go on in life?

"What if you get hurt?" he asked his voice weak.

"Then I get hurt Dean." Sam said wrapping his arms around his brother and holding him close. "That's life. Now, will you please come inside and have lunch?"

"Yeah, I guess I could go for some food." Dean said sounding a little bit more like himself. He gave Sam a gentle squeeze before pulling away to wipe his eyes. Sam smiled up at him, his blue green eyes filled with joy.

"Good, let's go." He said starting to walk in the direction of Bobby's house. A few seconds later he felt a stinging pain on the back of his head where Dean had hit him. "What the hell was that for?"

"For pullin' that stupid ass move back in the garage." Dean berated. "I mean seriously man, what the hell were you thinkin' doin' somethin' like that? Do you have a death wish?"

"I figured the only way to get you to respond was to put myself in danger. Like back at the training house you were half dead when I found you but you still managed to protect me. So I thought that if I was in trouble you'd wake up and save me."

"That's stupid Sam. What if I didn't 'wake up'? You'd would have fallen to the ground and become a pancake."

"But it did work and I didn't become a pancake." Sam said giving Dean a playful push.

"It's still stupid."

"Whatever, jerk."

"Bitch." Dean said with a smirk. As they drew closer to the house, Sam noticed that Dean became more subdued, like he is suddenly afraid to face the men inside. Sam gave Dean a playful nudge in his stomach and offered an encouraging smile. He pushed ahead inside the house, Dean following close behind. John was sitting at the kitchen table reading over something in his journal as Bobby stood at the counter adding the finishing touches to Sam and Dean's lunches.

"Nice timing boys, I was just about to send your Daddy out for you." Bobby said placing the food on the table as Sam and Dean took their seats.

"Thanks Bobby." Sam said tearing into his food with vigor.

"Yeah, thanks Bobby." Dean said quietly. The silence that followed was deafening. All eyes were glued to Dean's down cast face. Bobby and John stared with jaws hanging open while Sam looked at his brother with pride.

"Well you don't have to shout." Bobby said gruffly breaking the silence. Dean's face split open in a wide smile, lighting the room. "Glad to have you back son." He said clapping him on the shoulder. John continued to stare at Dean in wonder. Dean's smile faltered a little at John's lack of words but shrugged it off as shock. The rest of lunch passed in pleasant quite. It wasn't heavy and depressed like before, instead it was comfortable and peaceful as if just knowing that Dean said something was enough. Afterwards Sam and Dean retreated to the living room talking about everything and anything under the sun. John and Bobby listened on trying to repress smiles and groans at some of the things Dean said. By the time the sun had set and the stars where shining bright in the sky, both of the boys throats where sore from use.

"Sam, it's time to hit the sack." John said standing in the door way, the corner of his eyes crinkling at the sight of his two boys together at last.

"But Daaaaaad." Sam whined.

"I don't wanna hear it. Bed. Now."

"What about Dean?"

"What about him?" John asked with a roll of his eye, he knew where this was going.

"Why doesn't he have to go to bed?"

"Because I'm older." Dean said casually a smirk tugging at his lips.

"You're not that much older." Sam grumbled.

"Old enough to kick your ass."

"Yeah right." Sam shot back.

"You wanna bet buddy boy? I can take you."

"Boys!" John yelled ending the boy's verbal sparring match. "That's enough. Sam go to bed, your brother and I need to talk about some things. He'll be up when we're done."

"Fine." Sam huffed pushing himself to his feet. "'Night Dad, 'night Dean."

"'Night kiddo." John said ruffling Sam's hair as he passed by. John turned to face his eldest who was now sitting cross legged on the floor picking absentmindedly at the threadbare rug. An awkward tension hung in the air as John searched for something to say. What do you say to your long lost child? Hey, how's it going? Sorry I left you alone all those years ago and stopped looking for you? That didn't sound right. John found himself at a loss. But then he had so much he wanted to ask. Bobby had told him plenty over the last few weeks about Dean and his bounding personality but there were still questions he wanted to ask. What was Dean's favorite color? What kind of music did he listen to? Did he remember his mother? Does he hate him for stopping the search? He had so many questions but no idea at how to start a conversation.

"So you said you wanted to talk about somethin'?" Dean asked his voice cutting though the quite like a knife.

"Uh, yeah." John said clearing his throat. "I guess I said that didn't I?"

"It's not like you're askin' me to the prom." Dean teased, his quip lacking the sting as if he wasn't sure how far he could go with John.

"I wouldn't ask you in the first place, you're not really my type." John shot back with a glint in his eye.

"Please, I'm everyone's type." Dean joked.

"Lord help me." John said with a dramatic sigh. Dean cracked a shit eating grin and gave John a hearty wink.

"So what's up old man?"

"First of all, I may be your father, but I'm not your old man. Let Bobby keep his nick name."

"Fair enough."

"Dean…" John said slowly. He began to nervously pull at his wedding band, shooting quick glances at Dean's face, the face that looked so much like his beautiful wife. "Son, I'm sorry. This-this is all my fault. I should have never left you alone in that motel room. I should have never given up looking for you. I understand if you don't want me to be your father, I get it. I wouldn't want me as a father either. I'm terrible at it, just a big fuck up."

"So it's a Winchester trait then?" Dean asked looking deadly serious.

"w-what's a Winchester trait?"

"Blaming ourselves? 'Cuz I think what happened was my fault and Sam thinks it's his fault but, here you are saying it's your fault. Somethin' is tellin' me that this self blaming thing runs in the family."

"Yeah." John chuckled. "I guess it does but that doesn't mean that I'm not right."

"Sure it does. You told me to stay in the room and I didn't. Looks like it's my fault to me. Not yours."

"But I shouldn't have left you or Sammy there. I should have taken you with me. What kind of father leaves their kids behind?"

"You were just trying to do what's best for us. You didn't know there'd be a skinwalker. It wasn't your fault…Dad."

John froze. Dean called him Dad. He called him Dad! John felt like he should get up and dance or something. Dean was accepting him as his father, he was officially stating that he would be part of their family and take up the Winchester name. To hell with the blaming, he had his son back.

"Yeah, maybe you're right son." He choked out.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about you know… all the trouble I've caused lately."

"You don't need to apologize Dean, for any of it." John said sternly. If Dean wasn't going to let John take the blame for the past, he sure as hell wasn't going to let Dean take the blame for the present.

"Yeah I know, 'not my fault and all' but still, I felt like I should say it."

"Fair enough." John said with a nod of his head. "Now get your ass in bed."

"Yes sir." Dean said jumping to his feet.

"Goodnight Dean."

"'Night Dad."

~o0**0o~

The next morning found Dean out in the garage slaving away at the car Sam had not so gracefully fallen off of. The little shit had yet to mention to John or Bobby how he was able to get Dean talking again and had forcefully gagged Dean from telling the truth claiming that Dean 'owed him one'. Dean knew it was a load of crap but kept his brother's secret.

It was still weird to think of John and Sam as his family. For the longest time it had just been him and Bobby. Now he had two other people looking out for him. It made him feel safe and wanted but most of all, loved. The crunching of gravel drew Dean's attention away from the car, focusing instead on Bobby who now stood out in the cool autumn air with a smile on his face.

"Glad to see ya up and about kid." Bobby said shoving his hands in his pockets. "Things were getting a little too peaceful with you goin' mute and all."

"Whatever old man, you love to hear me talk." Dean said with a roll of his eyes.

"Yeah I guess I do."

"You're not here to give me another lecture are you? Or talk about my feelings?" Dean asked suddenly when Bobby took a seat by the tool bench.

"Why in the hell would I be doin' any of that?" he asked raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know, Sam and Dad keep comin' up to me asking if I'm ok and sayin' that they don't blame me and all that shit as if I didn't get it the first time."

"Well you can be a little thick sometimes kid."

"Shut up."

"I'm just sayin'." Bobby said with a shrug.

"Well you can 'just say' somewhere else."

"Nah, I'd rather bug you."

"Keep tellin' yourself that old man, we both know you came out here to check out my ass."

"You're a pain in the ass that's for sure."

"And that's why you love me."

"Yeah, yeah."

There's a beat of silence as Dean goes back to work on the car and Bobby sits on the stool quite as can be. Dean gets a nagging feeling in the back of his head like Bobby is just sitting there watching him. He ignores the feeling for a while until it becomes too much and he snaps.

"Ok, I know there's somethin' you wanna tell me so spit it out." Dean demands.

"John's found a hunt." Bobby said simply.

"Yeah so?"

"He and Sam are takin' off in a few days."

Dean's heart sinks. Oh, that.

"Right." He nods reaching for a rag to wipe his dirty hands. "You wanna know what I'm goin' to do."

"It's up to you boy. They're your family. I'm not gonna be mad if you leave with them."

"But you're my family too Bobby. I've known you for so long how can I just leave you?" Deep down, Dean knew this was going to come up sooner or later but Dean was hoping for later rather than sooner. He really didn't want to choose. Bobby had been the one to raise him, the one to take him away from the hell of the training house. Yet John and Sam were his blood. How could he choose between them without offending one of the two? Why couldn't they all live at Bobby's? Life would be so perfect. Sam could finish school without moving a million times and Dean could stay with Bobby and his family.

"I know it's hard kid but John and Sammy are you father and brother. I know how much you want to be with them. You'd hate yourself if you didn't go with 'em. And it's not like I'm goin' anywhere soon. John's got another thing comin' if he don't stop by every now and then."

"Bobby-" Dean started feeling like there was a hole growing in his chest. God he did not want to do this.

"You don't have to make a decision now. John ain't leavin' yet. Just think about it ok?"

"But Bobby-"

"I care about you Dean and I want you to be happy ok? Keep that in mind." Bobby said his tone final. He gave Dean a pat on the back before walking back to the house. Dean felt floored. He sat down on Bobby's now empty stool and hid his head in hands.

~o0**0o~

Dean trudged back into the house later that night with his mind made up. He had spent the better part of the day debating the pros and cons of staying with Bobby or heading out with his Dad. One of the main deciding factors was his little brother. It was clear Sam had placed Dean on a pedestal. One look and Dean could see that Sam worshiped the very ground he walked on. It was crazy, Dean was anything but perfect but he couldn't let the kid down. Sam was his little brother after all.

Inside, Sam was sitting at Bobby's desk working on homework, his eyes red as if he had been crying. Dean walked up to him and took a seat on the arm of the couch.

"What's up short stop? Someone break your oh so fragile heart?" Dean said nudging Sam playfully.

"Dad's leaving. He found a hunt."

"Yeah, so I heard."

"Don't you know what that means? He's gonna leave you! Again!"

"I never said that Sam!" John yelled storming into the living room Bobby not far behind.

"You might as well have!"

"Sam-" Dean tried to interrupted but John was already talking.

"I just said I found a hunt! I never said I was leaving your brother behind!"

"Yeah well you're making him choose between us and Bobby! Who do you think he's going to pick!?" Sam screamed.

"You don't know what he's gonna do and neither do I!" John yelled back.

"Would everyone shut up?! Please?" Dean yelled cutting off any retort Sam or John might have had. "I came in here to tell you that I've made up my mind."

"What?! Dean-"

"Sam, let your brother talk. It's gonna be hard enough with you two chuckle heads buttin' in." Bobby said taking a seat on the couch. "Go ahead son, we're listening."

Dean nodded suddenly feeling self-conscious now that all the eyes in the room where on him. He wasn't use to all the attention. Dean was pretty sure he didn't like it.

"Yeah…I thought about for a while and I think…I think I'm gonna go with Sammy and-and Dad." Dean said looking at Bobby the whole time. He was surprised to see a smile break out on Bobby's old face.

"I think you're makin' the right choice Dean." Bobby said. The genuine look of happiness on Bobby's face was all it took to confirm that Dean really was making the right move.

"It's like you said Bobby, Dad's gotta come back to visit. If he doesn't I'll just run away."

"Uh I don't think so young man." John said trying to sound intimidating but the smile on his face betrayed his motives.

"Do you really mean it?" Sam asked practically jumping up and down in his seat.

"I really mean it."

"Dean, you are the best brother ever." He said wrapping his arms around Dean's middle.

"Don't you ever forget it." Dean said hugging him back.

~o0**0o~

Two days later, the impala was packed and the Winchester's were standing outside facing Bobby. Dean would be lying if he said he wasn't sad. He was about to leave the only place he called home for the first time. He was leaving the man who not only saved him but convinced him he was a man, not a dog. This was going to be harder than he thought.

"Well Winchester I better see your ass around her in a couple of weeks. Gotta see how you're treating my boy." Bobby said gruffly shaking John's hand.

"You can count on it." John said before letting go and getting into the car.

"Sam, it was nice to meet you boy. Keep an eye on that crazy brother of yours."

"Yes sir." Sam said cheerfully hugging Bobby tightly. He gave Bobby one last smile before climbing into the back seat.

"Well boy, you ready?" Bobby asked placing a firm hand on Dean's shoulder.

"I-I don't know." Dean stuttered.

"Don't you be changing your mind now. You go with your family. I'll always be here."

"I'm gonna miss you Bobby." Dean whispered with tears in his eyes. Bobby pulled him close, wrapping him up in a tight hug.

"I'm gonna miss you too kid. Know that I love you and if you ever need to come back, just tell your Daddy and he'll bring you back ok? Now go on."

"See you around?" Dean offered breaking apart the hug.

"You bet your ass." Bobby smiled. "Now get goin'."

Dean nodded and hopped in the back with Sam.

"You ready to go?" John asked looking into the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, let's go." Dean said his voice cracking slightly.

The impala revved to life, sending powerful vibrations throughout the car. Within seconds the feeling of rightness settled in Dean's chest. Powerful memories of driving home from the hospital with a little baby brother next to him and his mother's sweet voice. Thousands of car trips to the park whirled around in his head. The familiar smell of leather filled his nostrils. Everything about the car screamed 'home'. It felt right sitting there, next to Sam, his father in front seat classic rock blaring from the speakers. As much as he loved Bobby and god did he love the man, being in this car with Sam and John, Dean knew that this was his home. Looking over his shoulder, Dean peered out the back window at Bobby's shrinking form. His eyes stayed fixed on him until he was nothing but a little pin prick in the distance. It wasn't a goodbye, it was more like a 'see you later'. Like Bobby said, he would be back before he knew it.

Sam leaned over and rested his head on Dean's shoulder pulling his attention away from the back window.

"We'll be back you know that right? Dad's not goin' keep you away forever."

"Yeah, I know." Dean said with a smile.

"I'm glad you're here." Sam said sleepily.

"Me too Sammy, it's good to me home."

"It's Sam jerk."

"Whatever, bitch."

* * *

**I know this feels like the end but, there's still one more chapter left! Tell me what you think!**


	16. Chapter 16

College was more than Sam ever imagined. He was free to do whatever he pleased. He could wake up when he wanted, even skip class if his little heart desired. He didn't have to salt the doors or clean any guns. There were no monsters to hunt and kill and no demons to fight. College was a new page in Sam's book. It was a completely normal way of life, nothing like the one he left behind. But the longer Sam was at the school, the more and more he found himself thinking of what he left behind.

Dean was more than supportive of Sam when he made his decision to go to school. Sam could practically see the waves of pride roll off his older brother. It was only when he left, his father red in the face from yelling, did Sam realize how much pain it caused Dean to let him go. He didn't want to leave his brother, in fact that was the last thing Sam ever wanted to do. Dean was his world. But he couldn't live the hunter life anymore. He had his own dreams to follow. Now, not a single day goes by that Sam doesn't think of his brother.

Today was no different. He stood outside of the library staring down at his shoes wondering what Dean was up to. Maybe Dean woke up feeling too stressed out to deal with the world and decided to handle life on four legs today. Or maybe he was out on a hunt with their Dad, possibly injured or dying. Sam paled at the thought. No, Dean was probably hooking up with a chick from some bar or hustling pool. He was doing something safe, something that kept him far from danger. Sam knew it was a childish hope but he held onto it for dear life.

Sam was so busy caught up in his own head that he didn't notice the tall, beautiful blonde walk up to him and wrap a slender arm around his middle. It wasn't until she placed a soft kill on his cheek that Sam realized that he wasn't alone.

"Hey." He said kissing the blonde locking away the thoughts that plagued his mind. "Done with class already?"

"All done and ready to spend the weekend with my Boyfriend." She smiled entwining her hand in his.

"Your boyfriend? Well he must be a lucky guy to have a girl like you." Sam said as they began walking.

"That's what I keep telling him." The blond smiled.

"You're the greatest girlfriend ever Jess. You know that?" he laughed.

"I do and don't you forget it." Jess smiled sweetly as they walked. Being around Jess seemed to take away some of Sam's anxiety but the slight feeling of worry still danced in his mind. "Aww, look at the sweet doggie!" Jess cried pointing ahead of her at a beautiful German Sheppard sitting on the sidewalk, across the street. Sam blinked. For a second it looked like any other dog but as they drew closer Sam caught a glimmer of gold around the animal's neck.

Dean.

Sam's heart soared. He pulled Jess along trying to make it to the end of the sidewalk before the light changed. He couldn't believe it, Dean was here. He was actually here! They reached the crosswalk a little too late, cars already zooming by. Sam tapped his foot impatiently on the ground, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of his brother.

"Sam, what are you doing?" Jess asked bewildered.

"The dog – it's my bro – I think I know the dog." he stuttered.

"You know the dog? You mean, you know who it belongs to?"

"Yeah…yeah that."

But as the cars cleared and the sidewalk became visible, Sam's heart sank. Dean was gone.

"Guess it must have run off." Jess said with a slight pout. Sam's eyes searched up and down the street for any sign of the dog. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. Why would Dean do that? Why would he pop up like that and not say something? Maybe it wasn't Dean at all. Maybe it was just his subconscious fooling him into believing his brother was really there. With slumped shoulders he chalked it up to the light playing with his eyes and followed his girlfriend home, the spring missing from his step.

Later that night, while he sat on the couch reading, a piece of paper sticking out from behind the television grabbed his attention. Pushing himself to his feet, Sam padded over and reached for the paper. Scribbled in some very familiar handwriting was a note.

_Lookin' good there Sasquatch. Blondie is way out of your league though, smokin' but way, way out of your league. Don't study too hard geek boy and don't forget what I taught you. Oh and tell Blondie I'm not a sweet little doggie. I am a ferocious, manly beast._

_Dean_

Sam couldn't help the bubble of laughter that escaped his mouth. Typical Dean. God his brother was just so...Dean, no one else on the planet like him. Sam could feel the stupid smile on his face but he didn't care. It wasn't a trick of the light, Dean had really been there. Dean was checking up on him, making sure Sam was ok. Sam couldn't even come to care that Dean didn't actually talk to him he was just glad his brother was safe and still cared. That was all that really mattered to him.

"Sam, everything ok?" Jess asked peeking in the living room. "What's so funny?"

"N-nothing." Sam lied the goofy smile still plastered on his face. "Just a-a note from a friend."

"Ok." She said not fully believing his lie. "Dinner's ready."

"Yeah, I'll be right there." Sam said taking one last look at the note before tucking it away in his jean pocket.

"You sure you're ok? You seem awfully happy."

"I'm great." He said kissing her on the cheek. "Couldn't be happier."

~o0**0o~

Dean watched from the sidewalk, his tail swishing on the ground with anticipation. He saw Sam get up from the couch and reach for the note. Seconds later that big dorky smile, dimples and all, broke out across his face. Good. He was glad. As much as Dean hated to admit it, he was glad Sam was out in the real world, living a normal life. Life wasn't the same without his kid brother around but Dean would rather have Sam happy and half way across the country than hating his life with his family. Besides, Dean could always stop by, like what he was doing now, to check up on the kid. It didn't matter where Sammy was, Dean was always going to be there to keep him safe. It was Dean's job after all. Giving Sam one last look, he took off down the sidewalk.

~o0**0o~

Gordon Walker watched the dog make it's way down the street. His fingers tightened instinctively on his gun, itching for action. Not yet, but soon. He'd make his move soon enough. He just had to wait a little bit longer. That mutt was going to get what was coming for him, he just had to be patient.

**THE END?**

**A/n: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! I hope this is a pretty good Christmas gift. I hate to say this but, this is the end. I left the door open for a possible second story but it might be awhile. I can't thank you enough for the support. Thank you for all the reviews, favorites and, follows. I couldn't have done it without my faithful readers. I hope y'all have a wonderful holiday! See you around!  
**


	17. Author's Note

**Hey y'all! I have some exciting news to share with you! as of now I'm am currently working on a sequel for A Man Among Dogs! I also just recently made a livejournal where I will be posting this story along with all of my other fanfics and original work. Feel free to check it out! blueland-lee . livejournal . com. ( remember to take out the spaces)Thanks again for all of your wonderful support and kind words! If things go as planed I should have the first chapter of the sequel ups soon!**


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